


Broken Chains

by Meowzalot



Series: Broken Chains [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Sexual Content, greg lestrade/mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzalot/pseuds/Meowzalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This will build its way up to BDSM, and I'll change my rating thus. It just seems unfair to be like 'Explicit' when it hasn't gotten there yet.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Interesting

**Author's Note:**

> This will build its way up to BDSM, and I'll change my rating thus. It just seems unfair to be like 'Explicit' when it hasn't gotten there yet.

Slamming what had to be the seventh shot glass down onto the bar Greg Lestrade sighed, dark eyes closing for a moment as the world seemed to spin. When it felt safe enough to open them he could only see the pale ring around his finger. For the last few months he’d juggled with leaving it on, or taking it off.

After barely an hour of having it off the guilt had become almost distracting. So he’d pulled the ring back on while trying to call his wife. For a good while it had seemed like she was willing to try and make things work. They weren’t living together anymore but she had kept going to couples therapy, talked to him about the issues she was having, and even wore her ring still.

Now? She was shacking up with some gym teacher, and had had her lawyer call his in regards to the papers. They had to sit down for one more meeting to make sure everyone agreed on everything, and then. . after that? His wife would no longer be his wife, and the silence that greeted him every day at home would be the only thing to look forward to. Sighing softly he held up a hand, waving over the bar tender.

“You sure about this?” He asked, setting another shot glass out anyway. “I’m not sure about anything anymore. . “ Greg murmured, taking the glass and swallowing the burning whiskey down with a small hiss.

The crowd around him was loud, voices straining against the walls of the tiny pub. When it occurred to him that it was time to finally leave he’d lost count with how many drinks he’d actually had. The bar tender had stopped questioning him, just starting to pour drinks so he could get back to the other people crowding around the bar. Slamming down money for the drinks he stood, holding tightly on the sticky top of the polish wood for a small breath.

“Oi! Call yourself a cab. Can’t have you out there driving!” one of the bar tenders called out. “I plan on it. I’m not stupid.” Greg replied, waving their worry away as he made his way outside.

Finally out in the fresh breeze he tried to breathe away the haze of drunkenness that currently seemed over whelming. When was the last time he’d let loose like this? Judging by how bothersome it was to take a few steps towards the curb much too long, and he wasn’t in a hurry for it to happen again.

Even before Greg could hold a hand up to try and summon a cab a sleek black car pulled in front of him. It was quite a familiar thing to suddenly have this car pull up out of nowhere. “The Holmes brothers. Bloody crazy if you ask me. . “ Greg murmured as he opened the door and got inside.

It was so late! Why would Mycroft need to see him about Sherlock now?

Asking the driver was a pointless, and that little texting crazed assistant was nowhere to be seen either. The first time he’d met Mycroft Holmes it had been under less than pleasing circumstances. By that point he’d worked with Sherlock quite a bit, and had a strange fondness for the blunt worded detective. Mycroft had merely kidnapped him one day, they’d had a talk about him, Greg, being Mycrofts extra eyes and ears around the younger Holmes brother.

When John Watson had come around the kidnappings masked as meetings increased somewhat. Mycroft wanted him to watch out for the both of them now, and report back anything. The only things Greg ever saw were almost impossible. Sherlock was still himself but a bit different with John, almost softer and a lot happier.

“My head. . “ Greg groaned softly, running fingers over his hair as the car drove along. Where was he headed now? There had been so many different meeting spots over the past few years there was no telling.

An abandoned building? A random shop? Where on earth would Mycroft demand to see him now? With the images of past meetings rolling through his head Greg Lestrade wasn’t even aware the car had stopped until the driver opened the door.

Getting out he was greeted by a rather nice looking townhouse. The type that cost more money than sense to own, at least that’s how Greg always saw them. When he was led inside there wasn’t anything that led to the idea this was an actual home. It was lived in judged by the perfectly placed décor items, and the sight of a leather couch in a dark themed living room, but it wasn’t a home. Nothing personal, not even the sight of shoes at the door.  
“Ah, Greg, I am glad you were able to join me.”

Turning towards the voice he could only shake his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Holmes, would I really have a choice in the matter? If this is about Sherlock I must be honest. There’s nothing else I can say, and right now I can barely think straight.” Greg said, glancing at the tan line around his finger again. “Yes, I had heard about that little. . mess.” Mycroft said, gaze flickering down to where the wedding band had been at one point.

“How. . you know what? I don’t even care. Listen, Holmes, I need to get home.” He said. “Do sit down. We both know there isn’t exactly anything waiting for you back home.” Mycroft said, gesturing towards the sectional leather couch.

Not bothering to fight against the ‘order’ Greg went to take a seat, unable to help looking around for pictures of any sort. At least some of Sherlock, considering the over protective brother Mycroft was. “Is this even your home?” He found himself asked while sitting back, mentally thanking God that there was somewhere for him to sit?

“It is a place I do business in once in a while. Were you expecting sentimental family photos spread out? Maybe more ‘homey’ touches?” He chuckled, distain dripping from every word. “Shut it, Mycroft. . I get it. . I should have known better. . “ Greg sighed, leaning his head back against the couch as his eyes followed the figure taking a seat across in one of the chairs. It made more sense for Mycroft to sit there. Easier for the man to watch him.

“You obviously are not taking this whole separation thing very well. Hitting the pub past your limit. Very shameful for a man your age.” Mycroft said with the tiniest shake of his head. It was moments like this that left Lestrade beyond confused. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling his senses but it was even harder to know if Mycroft was laughing at him or not.

The idea of it was even more annoying than usual, and worse. “I need a drink.” He murmured, looking up at the ceiling. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had laughed at him. No doubt ‘she’ was having quite the laugh with her new man. This moment also made him rue the day he decided to quit smoking, and all of the damned patches were still back home. “The bar is right in the corner back there. Help yourself.”

“What?” Greg asked, not sure he’d heard it correctly. “If you are to drink yourself into a mindless stupor my words will not stop you.” He said, tilting his head in the direction behind him.

A small bar from the looks of it but as Greg went over it had more than enough. Grabbing a glass and bottle of whiskey he poured a bit, wincing at the burning feeling down his throat.

“It really can be quite interesting to watch how people handle different levels of emotional turmoil.”

“So glad I can be entertaining for you during this time. I guess that answers why you even brought me here so late in the first place. You’re worse than Sherlock sometimes.” He said, pouring another glass before sitting at one of the small bar stools.

“I would say it depends on what you mean by ‘worse’. Sherlock seems to have forgotten how risky it can be to be sentiment towards anything, judging by the change of relationship between him and our dear doctor Watson.” Mycroft said as he stood, taking a few steps closer to Greg who was already swaying in his seat. “I’m not even going to ask. I don’t even think I want to know. Why do you even care?” Greg laughed, shaking his head.

Mycroft had always been honest about how he felt when it came to feelings. Well, honest about how he ‘thought’. Did Mycroft even feel anything besides the need to watch over his brother? “You have never exactly appreciated what I have said about emotions before, but look at yourself now. All for the love of a woman you are sitting here, drinking something that gives you little pleasure but all in the hopes that it will cloud your mind to the pain she has caused you.” Mycroft said, reaching up to place a warm hand on the others shoulder.

With the steadying hand Greg noticed how much he had been moving. Was Mycroft Holmes really touching him? Looking at the hand his eyes followed up the arm until they met the stormy colored eyes. “You look almost pleased with yourself. That’s impossible though, or did something good happen?” Greg murmured.

“Good is such a relative term. I am rather pleased you came. With you in your current state what I have to say might actually sink in easier.”

“Oh God, that’s always good to hear from a Holmes brother.” Greg said with a little shake of his head. It felt like the hand on his shoulder squeezed gently, drawing his attention again. It was a bit hard to tell with the numbing effect of the alcohol but it seemed possible judging by the cocky chuckle from Mycroft.

“Lestrade, you intrigue me. Very much so. I had been holding back out of respect for the marriage you were so hell bent on preserving.” Mycroft explained, stepping a bit closer as Greg frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. When have you ever held back from anything?” He asked when the slight pressure on his arm went away, fingers grasping his chin instead to draw his head around somewhat.

It sent off little warning bells to have someone grabbing at his face, but Greg was slow to react as he was turned somewhat to face Mycroft. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked, eyes growing wide as he noticed the face coming closer to his.

Truth be told Greg hadn’t really been ‘close’ with anyone since his wife had first moved out. He just hadn’t been able to get past the idea of her finding out. So, when lips were placed over his for the first time in what had to be almost a year he couldn’t help but react, heart leaping into his throat for a second as his lips softened under the contact. The ‘who’ on the other side of the kiss mattered little in those few minutes.

When Greg finally came back to himself he had fully turned towards Mycroft, and even had a hand on the one still trapping his face. “Mycroft!” Greg said, trying to pull away but the grip was firm and unrelenting. Grasping the others wrist he searched the face so close to his.

“How long has it been since you’ve partaken in something as relaxing as sex? It really can be a wonderful way to relax, and judging by the pounding of your heart you really could use it.” Mycroft chuckled.

It felt like his head was spinning, almost hard enough to send him falling over but Mycroft was keeping him steady with the grip to his face. “I don’t. . understand? What the hell are you saying? What the bloody hell are you even doing?” Greg asked but he didn’t sound outraged, merely confused.  
“You haven’t been with a woman since your wife left, and I have held back out of something considered respect. Now it is final and I see no need to hold back further, or is my company honestly so distasteful?” He asked with a small smirk, dropping his hand away from the pale face.

Greg reached up to lean on the bar, taking in a careful breath as he tried to work through what had exactly happened. “I don’t think I quite understand. You want me as in. . sexual?” Greg asked as Mycroft laughed softly. “I normally distain such drunken behavior but on you it is almost endearing. The cloudy judgment in your mind mixing with confusion of basic bodily desires with your common sense.”

He wasn’t gay! Greg Lestrade shook his head but nothing could clear away the desires that had been worked up from just a mere kiss. Almost an entire year without sexual contact with anyone, mixed with whiskey and a kiss just seemed like trouble.

“This doesn’t make sense. I should go.” Greg said, trying to stand. The stumbling was stopped by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer to a perfectly stable body. “Mycroft!” He tried to sound angry, offended by being pulled so close but he couldn’t help but look back into the stormy eyes.  
A storm promising fresh life and quite a wild ride. When they came closer all Lestrade could do was tilt his head out of habit, accepting the kiss that was offered this time as he felt fingers dig into his back through the suit.

Pulled flush against Mycroft he grasped at the mans shoulders, lips parting almost timidly only to be invaded by a tongue demanding control. Greg was used to being in control always. That’s what he had to do. Take control and keep order, but Mycroft was trying to take it. Moaning softly he tried to push away but a punishing nip to his lower lip had the Detective Inspector almost melting into a puddle.

When Mycroft finally broke away Greg couldn’t move, instead making his grip tighter on the others arms. “Your body seems responsive, your pulse is racing perfectly, but you doubt yourself?” Mycroft said, a wandering hand reaching down to explore the currently covered ass.

“Do think it over carefully. There is no attachment to leave you guilty, and no real excuse to turn away.” He said, letting go and leaving Greg to grab back onto the edge of the bar.  
As Mycroft started walking off Greg watched him move, confusion almost enough to knock him sober. Taking a few steps to the couch he laid down, breathing heavily as he licked his lips. Mycroft had tasted oddly. . clean. And so different. Instead of soft and delicate he had been powerful and demanding. What was he even thinking though?  
Mycroft was a man! They were both men! Men didn’t just. . they weren’t supposed to just. . God, it felt like his heart was about to explode.

“Mycroft. . “


	2. Stress Relief

The next morning was a knife to the temple repeatedly, taking Greg Lestrade far back through time when that had been a good thing. At least he’d lived through the night, right? The pain meant he hadn’t drunk himself into an early grave. In the past that would have been a good thing but right now Greg merely cursed himself.

How could he have been so stupid? Drinking himself stupid at a pub and then. . now he looked around, using a slightly shaky hand to hide blood shot eyes from the dulled glare of the sun. Thankfully the windows were covered with thick blinds but it didn’t completely help.

This was Mycroft place, or one of them. Sitting up slowly Greg grabbed at his head, groaning softly until that just made his dry throat ache more. So, he had really left the pub and ended up here? When his eyes landed on the bar his mind was filled with words from last night.

“Oh god. . “ Greg murmured, falling back against the couch. Mycroft Holmes, elder brother of the dearly annoying Sherlock Holmes, and the man who pretty much ran the British Government had kissed him and offered. . a ‘stress’ relief? Consisting of sexual relations and shit like that? How exactly was he supposed to feel about that?  
Hearing heels on the slick hardwood he forced himself up, following the sound until he could see the small maid walking towards him. Small, tanned, with a rather nice smile. The maid uniform hardly did her justice either. “Mr. Lestrade?” She asked, voice holding a bit of an accent. “Ya, where is Mr. Holmes?” Greg asked as he tried to stand, hating himself even more in that moment.

“Mr. Holmes has important business. I am Josephine, and I have been instructed to make sure you have everything you need.” She said, bowing her head slightly. “Please, sit down and I will bring you something to drink and something for your head. Mr. Holmes said you wouldn’t be feeling your best.” She said, already hurrying off to get everything.  
Thank God he had the morning off. It had mainly been ‘suggested’ that he take an entire personal day to sort through the issue of the divorce, and whatever else needed to be done. It had taken him demanding to be let back into work at least that afternoon but with the way his head was hurting there was no telling if he’d even be able to manage that. Taking a seat again he pulled the wrinkled jacket off, dropping it beside him.

When Josephine returned with a tray holding water, orange juice, and a pill bottle he felt thankful enough to kiss her feet. Moving forward to pick up the water he swallowed it down with a few gulps, mentally thanking Mycroft for leaving someone to help him. It was almost a kind gesture. The very idea of that had Lestrade laughing softly as he picked up the pill bottle, tossing back four of the little white pills.

“Are you hungry, sir?” She asked, standing nearby with a polite smile glued in place. “No, actually, I. . should probably head home. Thanks for everything.” Greg said as he stood again, tossing the jacket over his shoulder as she nodded. “Yes. Mr. Holmes left a car to take you home. I hope you feel better, Mr. Lestrade.” Josephine said with a little bow of her head.

Waving slightly he nodded, chuckling weakly. “I hope the same. Thanks again.” He said before heading for the front door, rubbing at his cheeks that felt a bit prickly from no shave that morning. One thing his wife had hated was the silver colored hair he refused to dye, thinking it was completely normal and natural for a man his age to at least have gray hair.

Now he was seriously considering dying the lot of it. First thing he needed to do was get home and shower. Start getting ready for work. Stepping outside he was forced to consider that maybe taking the entire day off would need to happen. The throbbing in his skull wasn’t quite done yet, and his stomach was turning dangerously.

 

The sound of his phone blaring in the living room had Greg peeking out of the shower, wiping water out of his eyes. A phone call? Could it be about a case? He’d already called and said he’d be in tomorrow morning, but if they were calling him anyway it had to be a big deal. Turning the shower off quickly he barely had time to grab a towel before ending up back in the living room, trying not to trip over the scattered books.

“Hello?” Greg gasped, ignoring the dull throb of his head until a familiar chuckle greeted him. “I was so pleased to hear you were able to return home, Lestrade. Did I. . interrupt something?” Mycroft asked smoothly, amusement dripping off each word. “I swear, between you and Sherlock there is no more peace left for me in this world. What do you need, Mycroft?” He asked, sitting on the couch with the damp towel draped over his lap. “I was merely checking on the poor fool who was passed out on my couch last night. Did you think over my offer?”

The offer for ‘stress relief’? A very certain kind of stress relief. Greg had tried to pretend it was nothing, or that his strained hormones had merely made up the whole thing. “I. . are you kidding me? You were serious?” He murmured, wiping away the water that dripped down his forehead. “Utterly. If you require more time to think we can discuss this tonight.”

As the phone went dead Greg wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. What was Mycroft even talking about? Talk about this tonight? What if he had plans or. . something along those lines? Did Mycroft even bother taking that into consideration?

Most likely not. Maybe he shouldn’t even go see Mycroft. A decision like that wasn’t just something to make within a day. Not that he really was thinking it over. He wasn’t gay! Mycroft was a man, very much so.

Heading back for the shower he stayed under the hot spray until it grew chilly enough to force him out. The whole time it felt like a trance of sorts. He went through the motions of drying off and getting dressed but he didn’t realize he was doing anything. Without even knowing it he’d made tea and stood in the cramped kitchen at the counter, looking down at an old issue of some magazine with tea stains and wrinkled pages.

“I can’t keep doing this.” Greg groaned, resting his forehead against the cabinets as he glanced at the kitchen clock. Already so damned late in the day? It reminded him that Mycroft was expecting a date of sorts out of him. Almost on cue the sound of his ring tone filled the tiny flat, almost calling him to the living room.

Letting it roll to voicemail Greg took the cup of tea to his couch, sitting back to turn on the telly. The phone next to him gave a low ‘Ding’, causing his finger tips to itch. Fuck this curiosity.

‘Do dress nice. A suit would be most proper. –Mycroft‘

‘Who said I was even coming? I might have plans.’

‘We both know that is hardly the case. I’ll send a car for you at 7. I do NOT want to hear another word about this, Greg. –Mycroft’

Talking to him like he was a mere child! It was downright degrading. The urge to call Mycroft up and give him an earful was tempting but he just couldn’t. The number was up on the screen, his thumb trembling to hit the ‘Call’ button. Instead he flipped it closed and laid on the couch for a moment, ignoring the hot cup of tea on the coffee table.  
Was he honestly considering going on a ‘date’ with Mycroft? Considering sleeping with Mycroft? The idea was more than a little worrisome but it also caused a familiar stirring in his lower body. Something he hadn’t really paid attention to in quite some time.

Greg arched his hips somewhat to try and ease the uncomfortable tightness in his pants. He even went so far as to fold his arms behind his head, trying to think of anything else to stop this random lust or at least think of something more appropriate to lust over. Closing his eyes Lestrade was stuck in a mental loop of mocking words, elegant fingers that knew just where to touch him. It was embarrassing to think of another man this way.

It might have been embarrassing but he wondered how someone like Mycroft would even be in bed. The man always seemed so. . formal. So in control.

Getting up off of the couch he went first to the bedroom, opening the closet and glaring at the line of clean suits like they were a death wish. No doubt they would fit with the amount of weight he’d lost since his wife had first. . left.

They were pretty much just copies of each other. Suits had seems more of a waste than anything. Rarely did he actually wear a fancy suit out but these would do. A simple black with white shirt. “If he doesn’t like it I don’t have to stay.” Greg reasoned as he took it out and tossed it onto the bed.

Changing into the suit Greg couldn’t help but admire himself in the dresser mirror. It still fit like a glove. An old memory flashed before his eyes. His wife stepping forward, quick fingers reaching for his tie as she teased him for being so sloppy with it. Clearing his throat he tried to walk away from the memory, going back to the closet to dig out the shoes to match.

It was hard to explain his feelings now as he finished getting ready, unable to watch the clock. What if Mycroft had only been teasing him?

Well, not teasing him so much as just. . mocking him? He barely understood Sherlock, but Mycroft was harder to gauge at times. He could go from caring older brother to someone ready to control the very government. It was rather hard to picture someone like that going through so much for just a prank like this.

As it grew closer for the car to arrive Greg Lestrade found himself actually pacing the floor of his flat, undoing the tie somewhat as it felt almost tight enough to strangle him.  
Almost on the dot there was a sharp knock at the door, making him stop mid-step. “Ya, coming. . “ Greg called out, going over to answer. “Mr. Lestrade? This way please.”  
The female was familiar indeed, the texting prone little assistant that usually came with every kidnapping car ride. “Sure sure.” He sighed, glancing into the flat. Should he go? “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting!” The voice made the decision, sending a nervous Greg through the motions of locking his door and heading to the open car door.

Like usual the drive was silent. Only filled with the sounds of ‘clicking’ from the woman sitting next to him. Somehow it seemed like the drive to Mycrofts was shorter than he remembered but it was the same townhouse as the other night, and that morning.

“Goodbye, Lestrade.” She said, offering a brief smile before pulling the door shut after him and the car drove off.  
So, it would just be. . them? Well, it was a date. No. It wasn’t a ‘date’. It was just a meeting between. . men.

Complete bullshit. Even he knew that.

Heading up to the door he barely had to knock before it was answered. “Josephine, right? Hey there.” Greg said, hands going to his hips out of habit as she smiled and moved so he could enter. “Mr. Holmes is waiting. Right this way, Mr. Lestrade.”

Still the house didn’t seem personal. The only difference now had to be the faint scent of cooking throughout the home, making him realize how little he’d actually eaten during that day. Between the horrible hang out, and simple stress, there just hadn’t been time for it. Now with the smell of steak and whatever else lingering in the air Greg felt his stomach rumble, causing him to chuckle weakly. “Sorry about that. . “

Mycroft looked as elegant as he ever did, the twat. Even after a long day of work he stood there as if there was nothing on his mind. It was almost enviable but Greg knew, to some degree, what Mycroft had to deal with. No thank you to that job.

The look on the slightly bored face turned to one of slight amusement as he came closer to him. “Josephine, you may go now.” Mycroft said, not bothering to watch her leave as he reached out to Greg. When Greg pulled away he raised one eyebrow, in such a way that Greg was reminded of Sherlock to an almost absurd degree. “Do behave yourself, Greg. Your tie is less than I expected.” He said, reaching up again to adjust the tie easily. “Pretty good at that, huh?” Greg murmured, clearing his throat again.

“Do calm yourself, Greg. Such stress is hardly good for a man your age.” Mycroft sighed, patting the perfect little knot before taking his place at one end of the table and nodding to the other one. Taking it for the motion to sit he took the spot, looking around the room. The dark woods and carefully selected paintings made it feel more like a restaurant.  
“I don’t see the point in beating around the bush, Holmes. What you said. . last. . night about ‘stress’ relief. You were actually serious about that?” Greg asked, cheeks growing somewhat warm as he reached for the water glass already set out. “We have been over this. I am not fond of repeating myself.”

The tone was rather firm, sending a little warning bell ringing through his head much like the kiss had last night. “I know. It just still doesn’t really. . click in my head. You want to sleep with me. We’re both men. I have nothing against guys that like that sorta stuff but I’m not. . well. . I’ve never been with a guy.” He tried to explain but it never seemed to make sense. When Mycroft finally gave one of those small chuckles he shut up, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Labels. Sexual relations are mainly for creating offspring, helping one spread their genetic make-up. It does feel pleasurable to our basic desires, but I have no desire for children. Furthermore sex has been proven to help ease stress. I care little for the ‘labels’ placed by either religion or fear.” Mycroft said, sipping at his wine. It had to be the silliest way someone had ever said ‘I like sex’, or maybe he was just mishearing exactly where this was going.

Setting the wine glass down Mycroft looked right at Greg, expression both frank and. . hot. The stormy eyes were almost haunting, making him choke on whatever had been in his head. “You are an interesting man. I had refrained from saying anything since you obviously care much for what others say, and your little marriage. Since you are here now I must assume you’re interested in my offer, if a little. . scared.” He chuckled.

“I don’t even know why I came here. Did you just set this whole thing up to make fun of me or something?” Greg asked, cheeks flushed as he looked away from the compelling gaze. “Hardly that, my dear inspector. Why don’t we enjoy dinner while you relax a bit, hm?” Mycroft suggested.

 

The meal itself was splendid, and even the company was. . nice. Mycroft was indeed the type who could fake his way through polite conversation but Greg could slightly tell when the elder Holmes brother was being his own version of sarcastic.

It was a relaxing dinner really. The wine did help somewhat but he was a bit hesitant to drink most of it, considering last night. With the memory of a fresh hang over still so close in mind he tried not to drink too much.

“I guess I never thought of myself being with another man like that. Have you. . been with. . many men?” Greg asked, looking away as if the question embarrassed him. “Only a few over the last few years. I tend to break things off when the situation becomes stressful instead of relaxing. With men it tends to end easier.” Mycroft said honestly. “Why are you embarrassed? The sheepish gaze, the flushed cheeks.” He added, eyebrow perking up somewhat.

“I might be a tad bit embarrassed. This wasn’t exactly how I was expecting to be spending my night but I’m here. There’s. . nothing left for me to lose. . “ He said firmly, standing then. “I just need a minute.”

Not waiting for a reply he left the table, leaving the dining room area and going for the living room since it was the only room he actually knew of. Josephine was nowhere to be found, which he was rather glad for. He did feel scared to be here.

Resting both hands on the couch Greg bowed his head, eyes closing tight until the hairs on the back of his neck stood out. “Need a damn bell on both you and Sherlock.” Greg grumbled, glancing over his shoulder as Mycroft took a few more silent steps towards him. “There is honestly nothing to be scared of. I know you must find the idea appealing judging by the dilated pupils, not to mention the slight swell to your lips is another sign of arousal.” He said, resting a hand on Gregs shoulder and running it slowly down his arm.

Using slight pressure he turned Greg around, closing the distance between their bodies much like had last night. Only now Greg could feel it even more so. The stunning warmth of another body that fit against his own so perfectly. For a second his hands remained passively at his sides until Greg placed them on the back of the couch, bracing himself as Mycroft pressed tightly against him.

The kiss itself seemed to burn through him, unlike any kiss he’d had where he was the one taking control. Even when he tried to be more demanding Mycroft would do something to take it back, and Greg found himself more than willing to give up the control for once.

With the combination of teeth teasing at his lower lip, and hands resting at his hips Greg found himself falling into a curious lust. Even when Mycroft pulled away he could barely breathe, eyes only drifting open at the small chuckle. “Shall you be staying the night or should I have the car brought back around?” Mycroft asked as he pulled away, already pulling out his cell phone and hitting a number.

“You are such a twat, Holmes.” Greg growled, grabbing the phone and hitting the ‘end’ button as he dropped it on the couch.

“Good boy.” Mycroft chuckled softly.


	3. Mind blowing

“What about Josephine?” Greg couldn’t help but ask when Mycroft grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. Even after verbally submitting his mind was in turmoil, confusion welling up when a very masculine body pressed back against his own. “Already gone. Stop coming up with excuses now, Greg. Most unbecoming.” Mycroft said but he didn’t seem annoyed, more amused.

With a Holmes brother them being ‘amused’ could have many meanings. Usually included in that meant someone else had made a fool of themselves in some fashion. “You better not be just setting me up for something.” He murmured, stepping forward as his hands went to Mycrofts hips. “So mistrusting. Almost like a timid rabbit.” Mycroft chuckled.  
Even with the kiss expected Lestrade felt nervous. The first time had been unexpected, hot enough to take his breath away. As his eyes closed and their lips parted he felt a shiver run up his spine, once again leaving him light headed and weak in the knees. Greg held tightly to the others waist, not caring about the wrinkles his fists were causing in the perfectly tailored suit.

With his eyes closed everything felt more sensitive. Even his lips felt oddly sensitive to the touch of the other mans lips and tongue, and when Mycroft actually bit at his lip Greg felt himself be pulled in closer. Mycroft had slipped both hands under the others suit jacket, oddly nimble fingers already tugging at the tucked in shirt.  
It was the brief contact between bare hands and bare flesh that had Greg pulling away, backing up against the back end of the couch. “So easily startled.” Mycroft said, not removing his hands as Greg tried to get his breathing under control.

Leaning against the back of the couch Lestrade tried to decide if he should leave. He was scared to a certain degree but the excitement was there, mixing in with the fear and leaving a delicious cocktail of adrenaline. Not to mention the pressing ache against the front of his trousers. Demanding more and almost not caring who eased it. After such a long time without the contact of another person Greg couldn’t really blame his body for wanting this to continue.

“I know I’m not a virgin but I’ve never done anything like ‘this’ with another man before.” Greg sighed, gesturing between them.

Mycroft stood there so composed, causing Greg to search quickly for any sign of arousal. Something? Anything? There was the sign of his pupils, the swollen lips from a heated kiss, and as his eyes drifted downward he felt another surge of heat between his legs as his eyes lingered over a distinctive tent like formation in the others pants. “Greg. . “ the warm tone drew his eyes upward quickly.

A gentle thumb and forefinger grasped his chin, Mycroft smiling carefully. “Wine? I can tell you’re being careful with your alcohol intake but just enough to. . relax you, yes?” He chuckled, letting go and turning away.

Greg followed without needing to be asked, trying to think of why he should leave. The negative reasons for being here were nothing more than a muddle mess, none of it making sense anymore. Why shouldn’t he be here as a newly single man who needed some good stress relief? The weight of his wedding ring was off, placed on the bedside table back in his empty flat.

“How long have you had the place? Even your bedroom looks like it hasn’t been used.” Greg said when Mycroft finally led him into a bedroom that looked like another ‘stage’ to sell a home. The only thing that stood out somewhat was the large dresser that stood against the far corner near the bed. The bed looked. . somewhat out of place with the large size and crimson colored sheets.

“I did add personal touches in the rooms I felt needed them. Did you think I never sleep?” Mycroft laughed softly, heading for a small lounging couch that had an ice bucket stand tucked next to it, along with a tiny cherry wood coffee table with two wine glasses. “You already knew we’d be coming in here for wine, didn’t you?” Greg sighed, not surprised in the least at what Mycroft had planned. “It was merely a guess.”

Standing in the middle of the room Greg watched Mycroft pour them each a glass, the man moving carefully but making it seem like nothing. When he had finally seated himself Greg took a few steps forward to join him, letting out a small breath at how close they were because of the small size of the couch. Comfortable but small.  
Sitting back with a glass of a bright colored red wine he took a sip, noticing now how the room smelled almost like. . lavender? “You look surprised again, Greg. Is the room not to your liking?” Mycroft asked but he hardly seemed worried over the answer. Why should he be? The room itself was fantastic and why would the room even matter if they were going to be paying more attention to each other than the aesthetics of the room itself?

Taking a rather large sip of the wine he winced at the overly bitter taste. Wine had never been his drink of choice. “It’s actually pretty nice. Not that you don’t know that. I can tell you use this room considering the bed is obviously yours, and that dresser doesn’t seem to match anything.” He explained. At the raised eyebrow from Holmes he gave a low chuckle, looking at the wine glass in hand. “My wife was really. . into home décor and stuff like that. She always hated my taste, mainly because I never really cared and I left my books scattered about.” He said, taking another large sip of the wine as he felt a hand place itself on his thigh.

“Emotional ties are the bane worn by many. Don’t let thoughts of her ruin what has been a rather enjoyable evening, even though you keep expecting me to pounce you like a senseless hound.” Mycroft chuckled, squeezing Lestrades thigh gently before sipping his wine once and setting it down. It was a pleasurable past time to enjoy a nice glass of wine but the empty calories were just not needed at this point in time.

With a mental sigh of relief Greg was pleased to have the conversation move elsewhere. Ranging from cases, to even Sherlock. Mycroft seemed only in keeping him talking while they, namely he, drank more and more wine.

The little buzz was nothing like last night. It was there but Greg wasn’t sure if he was really drunk or just forced himself to feel it. It was easier to submit to wants and desires when under the influence of drinking, and he wanted this.

As he leaned back against the little lounge couch he felt Mycroft shift beside him, a hand starting to undo the knot at his tie and slowly pull it down. “I find the act of removing a mans tie quite. . arousing. There appears to be this type of control.” Mycroft admitted but Greg wasn’t sure if it was actually said to him, or Holmes was just speaking out loud. The look in his stormy eyes was chilling. The usual blank but all seeing stare replaced by a heat that seemed to burn right through him. There was a lot about Mycroft he didn’t know about.

Watching Mycroft pull the knot down slowly he sucked in a little breath, the glass trembling in hand before it was carefully plucked up and at on the table next to the almost empty wine bottle. The lack of a glass went unnoticed as he followed the motion of the tie being pulled off, dropped over the back of the couch as the careful fingers went to undo a few of the top buttons of his dress shirt.

Reaching over to place his hand on Mycrofts thigh he squeezed gently, drawing a small chuckle from the other man. “Feeling at ease now? I can feel your hand trembling, your heart racing, and I find your reactions most appealing at the current moment.” He murmured, leaning over and placing a searing kiss over the racing pulse in his throat. Greg tilted his head back out of instinct, eyes drifting closed as he felt the hot lips suck gently at the pulse.  
Reaction had him reaching up to grasp the back of Mycrofts shirt, trying to keep him right where he was. The gentle suction was replaced by a small kiss, the lips going to the little dip caused by the few open buttons of his shirt. “Mycroft. . “ Greg said softly, squeezing the suit jacket tightly. “Too much?” Mycroft asked, breaking contact much to Lestrade dislike.

Mycroft stood to remove the suit jacket, taking the time to fold it carefully before placing it over the back of the couch. “How the hell do you do that? Just remain so calm like this doesn’t do anything to you?” Greg murmured but it was noticed how the tent that was almost eye level had grown more. . pronounced. Another sure sign that this wasn’t a mistake considering the mere sight of what he assumed to be Mycrofts aroused shaft made his mouth dry, his heart pound, and his fingers twitch to feel it.  
“Your skills of observation aren’t quite as broken as I had thought, but you won’t admit it. Maybe it’s fear or pride keeping you so quiet.” Mycroft chuckled, resting his hand on the top of the others head and almost petting while running it down to cup his cheek.

“The answer to your question is right in front of you. I see your eyes widen slightly whenever you see the proof of my enjoyment.” He added.

The cocky pleasure in Mycrofts voice both annoyed, and thrilled him to a certain degree. Without a word he reached up, placing a shaky hand on the others hip and keeping eye contact as the hand slid around to rest over the distracting tent.

The slight suck in of breath on Mycrofts part was a welcome stroke to the ego, making Greg grin somewhat as he increased pressure and rubbed at where the head would be. It was rather big from the feel. While Greg enjoyed this quite a bit he was a little hesitant to continue, butterflies again making him nervous.

“Teasing? How very rude.” Mycroft chuckled, kneeling down on the wooden floor. “Mycroft, what are you doing?” Greg asked quickly, body tensing slightly as his knees were pushed apart. “The. . um. . the floor can’t be comfortable from down there.” He tried to reason but nothing seemed to reach Holmes. He seemed quite cheerful kneeling on the floor as he undid the suit pants, the sound of the zipper becoming the loudest sound in the room.

“Hips.” Mycroft simply said, the command laced between each letter. His hips rose up with little thought, allowed the pants to be pulled down somewhat, along with the dark purple briefs underneath. Greg felt his cheeks grow hot, eyes looking away as he saw Mycroft glance at the oddly colored mens underwear. Even with that fresh wave of embarrassment he felt more. . aroused.

The head of his length was pressing against the tight confines of the briefs, leaving a small wet spot that had Greg wondering what Mycroft would think. Instead of laughing or making some witty remark the elder Holmes brother merely leaned forward, placing his lips over the little mark. The actions had Lestrade grasping the edge of the couch, head falling back on a low moan as he fought back the urge to arch.

Embarrassing sounds fell from his lips. When he felt the briefs being pulled down more he couldn’t help but watch, eyes wide as he saw Mycroft pull them down further to expose him. “God damn. . “ Greg gasped softly, knuckles turning white as his grip grew tighter. Without a word Mycroft lowered his head, taking the first few inches into a warmth Greg hadn’t felt in what felt like decades.

It should have bothered him that a man was kneeling between his legs, giving him the absolute best blow job of his life, and he’d barely done anything! A hand had reached up to take over the part not in the warm mouth, leaving Greg a simple mess of nerve endings.

He could feel the verbally barbed tongue run along the underside of his aching length, head moving up to where special attention could be paid to the head. His wife had always hated doing this but Greg tried not to think about her, a surprisingly easy feat when he dared to watch the way Mycroft moved his head.  
The in rhythm stroking of the soft hand with the perfection timed bobbing of his head was proving to be a bit much.  
As Mycrofts tongue teased at the slit at the head of his cock the hand at the shaft had reached down to tease at the sensitive sac hanging there. “Mycroft, bloody hell. . “ Greg cursed, arching upward again as a low moan of pleasure slipped from his lips. He was already leaking a great deal but Mycroft seemed hardly bothered, instead licking everything up and swallowing.

“Fuck, Holmes!” He tried to warn, heart starting to race as his breathing grew faster and rougher. The familiar curling in his lower body was reaching the brink, making his very fingers and toes go numb when he felt the wonderful warmth go away. Eyes coming back into focus he watched Mycroft wipe at his mouth with a hankie tucked neatly into his right sleeve, drawing a disbelieving stare from the breathless Lestrade.

A sharp ache entered his lower body, making Greg start to reach to either tuck himself away or finish the job. At the ‘tsking’ noise from Mycroft his hand simply paused, confused gaze looking into his overly confident one. “It certainly has been awhile for you, hasn’t it, inspector?” Mycroft chuckled as he stood, shaking his head somewhat before dusting at his knees.

“We can’t have that nice suit getting completely ruined. Undress, fold it neatly and wait for further instruction.”

He had to be kidding! Greg felt a prickle of anger at the simple command, finding it rather degrading but why did his body react so strongly to it? Already he was standing and doing what was ordered as Mycroft took a small sip of his wine, taking in the show as casually as one would something on the damn television!

Greg pulled the jacket off first, trying to fold everything neatly even as his hands kept shaking. When everything laid out on the couch folded he was left with nothing beyond his ‘birthday suit’. Even for a man his age that had recently gone through a divorce he liked to think he looked fine enough. No longer fit and toned like in his youth but still trimmed. There was nothing for him to be ashamed over but that line of thought didn’t help much when he stood in front of Mycroft Holmes.

“Most men are known for letting themselves go after a separation. I’m most impressed.” Mycroft said with a tip of his head before sitting the glass down.

“Sit on the edge of the bed like a good boy, would you?” He requested now, watching Greg walk towards the bed before he undressed his lower half. Like what Greg had done he followed everything neatly before going towards the bed.

With his lower half now bare Greg could get a more clear view, and his breath nearly caught in his throat. Mycroft Holmes was rather. . hung. Just a quick glance had him guessing maybe ten inches, and the girth was just as impressive.

“Stop looking so worried, Lestrade. I wouldn’t be so foolish as to think you could handle this tonight.” Mycroft laughed, obviously seeing the fear in his bed partners eyes. The laughed at comment drew his annoyed gaze for a second, refusing to admit he’d worried about having to take ‘that’ inside of him after a lifetime of never having another man inside him.

Left speechless by the turn of events Greg didn’t bother agreeing or disagreeing with the others statement, instead just focusing on what Mycroft might ask him to do. Licking at his lips slightly he couldn’t help but notice the low chuckle, bringing to mind an image of Mycroft face fucking him with those soft hands holding his head in place.  
The image was shocking and so very arousing. When he felt Mycroft actually stroke his cheek his eyes were drawn up, mouth far too dry to form a sentence. “Such a good boy you are. I must admit I am more pleased than I thought I would be to have you here.” Mycroft admitted, stroking the stubbled cheek tenderly before arching his hips a bit forward and turning the others face down a bit.

Without needing to be asked his lips parted, eyes closing tight as he reached up to brace himself on the bare hips. The first taste of another man on his lips was. . strange. Neither bad nor good but strange. The salty liquid at the tip wasn’t a mystery and it should have bothered him to lick it away, swallowing it away as a few more careful inches worked their way into his virgin mouth.

Having something pushed into his throat was completely new but instinct had him breathing through his nose, fingers tightening on the bare hips as Mycroft pulled away slightly. “Teeth, Greg.” He chuckled. It felt like he needed to do this right. He might not have ever done it but he knew what felt good, so that was something.

Swirling his tongue around the thick flesh Greg tried to take in more, trying not to gag when the tip hit the back of his throat. It was rather hard to breathe at this point but the delicious sound of a moan coming from Mycroft was well worth the pain. Pulling a bit back to lick at the head he dared to open his eyes, wanting to actually see Mycrofts reactions. The others eyes were hazy but watchful, never seeming to miss a bit as they watched his new toy start to stroke him.

“A natural, aren’t you?” He praised, allowing Greg to go at his own pace. Going too fast would only startle a virgin away from the fun they could have together, and Mycroft was far too excited for that fun to risk scaring Greg away.

After a moment of catching his breath Greg went further down on the other, using his tongue to stroke the oddly soft flesh as his hand worked at the base. It was hard to picture Mycroft using this. . this thing on him. Well, rather, in him. The idea was breath taking.

Greg increased the bobbing of his head as he pictured Mycroft inside him, using him hard and rough. His own rod stood straight and weeping, silently pleading for attention but Greg didn’t dare reach for himself. When Mycroft started moving his hips along with the stroking he felt another surge of pride, swallowing down the slightly bitter liquid and not finding quite as strange now.

The tensing of Mycrofts body was familiar, as was the warning grunt of pleasure as he thrust forward. Lestrade wasn’t quite able to back away quick enough to avoid most of the splatter in his mouth, a hand having moved to the back of his head to keep him mainly stuck there.

Swallowing down as much as he could Greg finally pulled away, growing crimson as he felt the last few spurts land on his face and drip down to his chest to his own aching need.  
Mycroft was at least breathing hard, a hand braced on Gregs shoulder to help keep him standing. “Such a mess you’re making.” He finally said, voice oddly breathy but still controlled.

Looking down to where Mycroft was looking he blushed deeper at how he looked. Covered in another mans release and even more aroused. Damn near ready to burst actually.  
With a tiny chuckle Mycroft walked towards the dresser, tossing a polite smile over his shoulder. “Reward yourself but do make sure not to tire yourself. The night is still quite young.”

Greg didn’t bother asking as he reached down, giving a few firm strokes to the sensitive area. Embarrassingly enough it didn’t take long to have him crying out, mind focused on the delicious taste still in his mouth from Mycroft. He should have hated it, or at least disliked it a bit but he loved it.

Arching his head back he kept stroking, only stopping when it was too sensitive to keep going. “Such a mess.”

Looking over at Mycroft he tried to think of something smartassed to say, anything really but the sight only had him growing hard painfully fast.

One of the drawers had been opened, and now sitting on top of the dresser sat a bottle of lube and a toy that looked like something any woman would die to own. Eight solid inches of a flesh colored vibrator sat there mocking him, making his lower body tense.

“Shall we get started then?” Mycroft asked, giving Greg the same smile he’d always given to be polite.


	4. Stuck in place

How had he ended up like this? It had happened so fast after Mycroft had tossed him the little bottle of lube, smile firm and unrelenting in those moments. “What do you want me to do with this?” Greg asked, as something else was tossed onto the bed next to him.

A twin of the eight inch toy still on the dresser but a lot. . smaller. “For your own sake I’ll let you start things off. I’m sure you’ll find it a most generous offer.” Mycroft said but Greg wasn’t exactly buying that. “You just want to watch, don’t you? Don’t bullshit me, Holmes.” Greg growled softly but the warning flash in the others eyes had him mentally backing down, grip growing tighter on the toy.

Now Lestrade laid spread out in the middle of the bed, handcuffed to the bed board. No wonder Mycroft had brought in his own bed. With the gaps between the metal links it was perfect for loops handcuffs. It had just happened so quickly.  
The warning glare had turned oddly soft, hypnotic as held reached back into the drawer. Greg hadn’t bothered to spare another thought to it when Mycroft came closer to the bed, reaching down to stroke his cheek before leaning down to kiss him again.

Greg was quite distracted by the mixed tastes in his mouth. One was still Mycroft but now it mixed with his own, causing the items in hand to slip out as he reached up to grab onto the shirt Mycroft still wore. Running his tongue along his partners he tried to get more of a taste, body almost straining to be pressed against the new body.  
No warning bells in the least this time around as he felt Mycroft push him back onto the bed, murmuring something about moving backward.  
Before long they were both in the middle of the bed, his hands exploring underneath the dress shirt. Something about the way it rubbed against him felt rather. . interesting. “Grab the bars at the head of the bed.”

The hazy lust taking over had him reaching up before it could be questioned, and only after the clink of cuffs and the feeling of something soft around his wrists did Greg come back to his own mind.  
For a moment he yanked at them, looking first at Mycroft who was now leaning above him almost scary happy. “What the hell is this, Mycroft?” Greg asked, yanking again at the cuffs. The only saving grace had to be the fact they were lined with a dark black fur so they didn’t hurt as much as regular ones would have.

Mycroft sat up now, taking the time to trail his gaze almost tenderly over the rather messy body of Greg Lestrade. “Does being under pressure arouse you?” He asked, taking in every detail. Reaching up he pinched carefully at one already erect nipple before shaking his head. “No need to answer that. The answer itself is quite clear. I could almost tell it from the first time I laid eyes on you. You can tell a persons life story sometimes from only a few handful of meetings, and I knew from the start you would be like this.”  
His heart was pounding again, sending adrenaline racing through his veins. “Let me go, Holmes!” Greg pleaded but Mycroft kept talking. “You have control, and crave it to a certain degree. It is to be expected of a man like yourself but there’s a little secret you told no one, not even your dear little wife. . “ He chuckled, pinching Lestrades nipple again and smiling fondly as his chest arched up and his legs almost spread before Greg quickly pulled them back together.

“The idea of someone taking that control away is so arousing you could sit about and fantasize about it all day. Isn’t that right, inspector?”  
The answer burned in his throat, embarrassment turning into a bright blush across his face. “You really get off on just reading people, don’t you?” Greg finally said but the answer was already out there. A dark secret so easily read by someone like Mycroft Holmes. “Did you really spend so much time watching me?” He asked to which Mycroft simply gave a laugh.

“Spread your legs for me. Knees bent and feet flat.”

Greg still tugged at the handcuffs a bit but his legs did as ordered. God, what was wrong with him? Instead of being pissed off at being so exposed he felt a thrill. As the bed shifted under the change of Mycrofts position he looked down, watching everything despite the fear.

With the other kneeling between his legs Greg now laid his head back on the pillows, trying to control his breathing. “Ah!” He gasped, hips jerking up when Mycroft returned to pleasuring him. Despite having only experienced an orgasm barely a few minutes ago this didn’t hurt in the least. His shaft felt a bit sensitive but that somehow only added to the pleasure, balling his hands into fists he moaned softly while straining against his binds.

The ceiling above his head grew blurry, the only thing sinking in the messy sound of Mycroft jerking him off. When the sensation of something poking at his opening finally sunk in his first reaction was to tense, trying to back away as Mycroft sighed.

“Naughty one, aren’t you? Do calm yourself. Tensing at the wrong moment could certainly ruin this otherwise enjoyable experience.” Mycroft said, shifting around to where he laid between Gregs legs. Sometimes distracting was truly the best option.

It was easy to tell when Greg had relaxed again, and Mycroft was silently glad when his body didn’t tense up like before. A finger heavily coated in the slick Astroglide reached back up to prod gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head and teasing at the slit of Lestrades arousal to keep distracting him.  
The foreign feeling almost had him tensing but Greg tried to remain calm, breathing carefully as his toes seemed to curl. When another finger was added he cursed softly, sweat beading along his forehead. How had he ended up in this situation?

Curiosity. The burning desire to see what Mycroft had planned for him. Now he had the over observant bastard shoving now three fingers inside of him. “Bloody hell, Mycroft!” Greg cursed when he felt the fingers scissor slightly inside him.

“Relax.” He said, licking at a thin tear that leaked out of his tip. Despite what his mind was saying his body seemed to be quite the betrayer in this regard. Greg felt the fingers push in deeper and deeper, always spreading apart to ease him into it.

It was still slightly uncomfortable but something else changed it. A mere brush over something that had his hips arching, breath catching in his throat. “Ah, there it is.” Mycroft murmured, purposefully thrusting his fingers against that spot that quickly had Greg grinding against them without thought.

That one spot within his body was every good thing with sex wrapped together into one. It felt as if Mycroft were rubbing his finger-tips against it, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him that collected at the tip of his cock. “I can’t take it. Please. . “ Greg moaned, stuck between the pleasure of a hot mouth and the teasing fingers. It just seemed like too much! His body was screaming for release already and all he could do was plead and arch like some little whore.

“I didn’t say stop!” Greg groaned when the other pulled away, sitting up now. “Hush now.” Mycroft scolded, picking up the small toy then. It still seemed a little odd to picture something like that inside him but now he wanted a repeat of what had just happened within his body. That ball of sensation inside him that just begged for more.  
As the toy was pushed inside of him there was a noticeable difference between it and the fingers but Greg bit at his lower lip, forcing himself to remain relaxed. The stimulation was harder now, drawing out a loud moan from him now. “Such lewd reactions you have. Your body appears to love it quite a bit.” Mycroft chuckled, turning a little knob at the base that sent wild vibrations through Gregs body now.

Curling his toes he almost started crying, cries of pleasure falling in waves as he started moving with the thrusting motion Mycroft set up with the toy. “You really should see yourself now, Lestrade. Your body is almost sucking the little toy out of my hand.” He said in such a pleased way that Greg would have been pissed off if he weren’t ready to beg to beg for more. The chilling vibrations running through his body were mind numbing!

“God!” Greg finally screamed, hips pushing as best they could against the toy as he felt the pressure in his lower body simply burst forth. It had to have been one of the most intense orgasms of his life. There was a flash of white before his eyes as he came, no doubt making quite a mess on both himself and the bedspread.  
As he finally floated back into his body Greg noticed the toy was missing, leaving him feeling rather empty. Nothing else really came to him as he felt a wave of simple fatigue come up on the heels of the afterglow of satisfying sexual acts. He tried to keep his eyes open but nothing helped.

Hearing a low chuckle and shifting of the bed he tried to think of something to say. “Bet you’re real pleased with yourself, Holmes. . “ Greg murmured, eyes already falling closed as his legs laid out comfortable on the bed. Just a few minutes and he’d be completely fine.

 

By the time a few ‘minutes’ had passed the normal alarm to wake him was going off, causing Greg to jerk up in a bed that wasn’t his. For a second nothing made sense. This wasn’t his bedroom, his flat, his. . anything!

The phone was sitting on the pillow next to him. Reaching out to pick the phone up everything came back in waves. The dinner invite, the dinner, the choice he made to stay, and. . everything else. Greg Lestrade rubbed at his face, the memories both horrifying and enjoyable. Speaking of that, where was Mycroft?

Greg also looked where his hands had been cuffed, seeing nothing. He was also under the covers instead of on them like last night. “Must have really been out.” He murmured, getting out of bed. The need for a shower was calling his name but then what? He needed to get his ass to the office but there was nothing of his here! Only that suit but it wasn’t even hanging over the back of the couch anymore. “Mycroft!” Greg called out the name, rubbing slightly at his lower back but he had a feeling there would be no reply.

The phone in hand quickly gave a ring, causing him to jump slightly. “Lestrade.” He answered, cheeks growing hot at the voice on the other end. “I took the liberty of having your suit dry cleaned along with mine. Josephine will bring you a proper change of clothes as soon as I hang up. After you get ready a car will take you to work.” Mycroft explained everything so quickly that it took a moment or two for his half-asleep mind to even think past the first sentence.

“Aye. Later then.” Greg finally said before hanging up, rubbing at his face again until a knock on the door had him jumped. “Mr. Lestrade?”  
Right, the maid. The state of his undress didn’t really click as he went to the door, only cracking it a bit and trying to stay hidden behind the most of it. “Thanks, Josephine.” He said, taking the bag of clothes. 

“Anything else, sir?”

“No, actually, thanks anyway.” He said quickly before shutting the door. Normally he’d hate to be rude but work was calling his name.  
The clothes weren’t exactly to his taste. A thought that occurred to Greg while dressing. The whole thing was a bit fancier than what he might normally pick. More along the lines of a casual suit. That seemed to be a theme with Mycroft.

“Pervert.” Greg said with a roll of his eyes while leaving the room, trying to adjust the matching cream colored tie. What did that make him exactly?

 

Stepping into the office felt rather awkward. It was a combination of the pitiful stares, questioning stares, and the dull ache in his lower back. It wasn’t bad but just a slight pain.  
A few people came up to chat, offering their condolence’s over the bad news. Some even being so bold as to suggest they knew someone perfect for him. The divorce had only happened a day or two ago but she’d been gone for quite some time. “I’m fine. Honestly dating is the last thing on my mind.” Greg said for about the fifth time before finally getting to his actual office.

“Sir, package arrived a few minutes ago for you.” Sally said as she passed by, giving him a small nod of greeting. She looked as if even she wanted to say something but he tried to steer past it. “Thanks. Any cases we need to go by today?” He asked, hand on the doorknob just waiting to give him freedom inside away from these damned stares.  
Looking down at the papers in hand she gave a quick shake of the head. “Not so far, sir. Just paper work on your desk that needs a look over.” She explained before he dismissed her, giving orders to not be bothered unless it was work related.

Shutting the door firmly behind him he groaned, rubbing at the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave away yet. A package so early? Walking over to the cluttered desk he picked it up, frowning at the overly fancy handwriting addressing it to him.

The little card hadn’t been touched, most likely a blessing considering the contents.

‘Do give me a call for instructions once you receive your new ‘gift’, Mr. Lestrade. – Mycroft Holmes’

Crumping the card up he went to open the plainly wrapped package, tearing the paper off and opening the small box.

“Mycroft!” Greg cursed, eyes going wide at the contents that brought again to mind the wonderful question of: If Mycroft was a pervert, what exactly did that make him?


	5. What Time?

“Sir!”

Shoving the box into a drawer he looked up, heart pounding as Sally poked her head inside. “Just got a call. Should be a simple one so maybe don’t call. . you know.” She said before shutting the door again. “Right. Could have sworn it was my decision.” Greg sighed, not really caring what Sally had to say at the moment.

Leaning against the desk he opened the drawer slowly, heart slamming against his chest. A damned dildo and lube? It seemed so ridiculous. It was ridiculous! After last night he sure wouldn’t put it past Mycroft to send something like this to him but at work? What exactly did Mycroft expect him to do? This wasn’t just a job where he had all the free time in the world.

Slamming the drawer shut he went to leave, tensing when the cell started ringing. Of course. Of bloody course. “Lestrade.” He answered, other hand squeezing the doorknob tightly. “Now, Greg, it is very rude to not call when you opened your gift. I’m quite offended.” Mycroft said. Faintly he could hear the sound of movement in the background, making him grow still to try and listen. “This is my place of work, Holmes. Plus, I have a scene to get to. We will have to discuss this later. I’ll give you a call about that ‘gift’ of yours.”

It was just going to have to wait. “Do say hello to Sherlock for me when you see him.” Mycroft simply replied before hanging up. “What makes you think I need to call Sherlock for everything?” Greg mumbled but he was already typing out a text, knowing it would get more attention than an actual call. If that didn’t work he’d just give John a call. Only other way to get in contact with Sherlock was to go through John Watson.

 

This scene was like any other. A dead body with an annoying amount of mystery behind it. This one seemed rather cut and dry. Dead body knifed up behind some old house that hadn’t been lived in for years. It didn’t seem like that complicated of an issue but Lestrade had learned a good while ago that a mind like Sherlocks could see the smallest detail not even a fly would catch. No matter what anyone on the team said he’d call Sherlock without a second thought.

Only downside was having to keep a hand on his phone and wallet. Quick minded and sticky fingers. Those Holmes brothers would be the death of him!  
Kneeling by the body a gloved finger held up one end of a blood soaked jacket until the sound of raised voices caught his attention around the side of the house. “Anderson! Holmes! Will the both of you kindly shut it?” Lestrade yelled out, not bothering to get up yet. The pair of them were like two cats throw into a bath.

“Hey, Watson. How is our dear Mr. Holmes?” Greg asked when he glanced up to see the doctor standing next to him. “A bit testy. I’d keep a close eye on your things.” John chuckled with a little smile as Greg stood, arms folding. “Always lovely to hear.”

Already Sherlock was looking around the scene, no doubt piecing together everything as easily as a computer would. Watching Sherlock examine everything his mind was drawn back to Mycroft. The elder Holmes was just as brilliant as Sherlock but he didn’t feel the need to really do anything with it.

“Hello?” Johns voice finally sunk in, making Greg clear his throat nervously since he’d just been watching staring at Sherlock. Johns eyes flicked between Lestrade and Sherlock, a question rising behind his dark eyes but nothing was mentioned for the moment. “I was just asking how you’ve been. Molly mentioned the divorce papers.” John repeated.  
“Like a group of gossips at a quilting party. I’m doing fine as can be expected, John. Thanks for asking. What about you and velvet tongued over there?” Greg asked, remembering what Mycroft had mentioned about Sherlock forgetting how dangerous it could be to grow attached to another person. Could the two have actually. . ?

The faint blush and look away confirmed it somewhat. “I’m doing fine. Can’t really answer for Sherlock. Same as usual I’d guess.” John said before excusing himself and going over to Sherlock.

Trying to remember they were at a crime scene Lestrade went back to the body. He could hear Sherlock explain this was so easy it was embarrassing he’d even been called out. “By the way, Sherlock, Mycroft says hello and that you should give him a call.” Greg interrupted, derailing the rambling almost too easy. “Yes. Thank you, inspector.” Sherlock said, eyes narrowing slightly before he went to leave with a laughing John trailing after him.

 

Back in his own little office Greg tried not to think about anything for the moment. The little box sitting in the drawer, the way his phone kept vibrating and showing the name ‘Mycroft’ as the ID. No voicemail yet but he could almost feel the frustration growing on the other side of that phone.  
The pen in hand froze as the phone started ringing again. He really needed to answer it. “Lestrade.”

God, even to his own ears he sounded worried. “Naughty boy. I was starting to get worried.” Mycroft sounded the same as always but there was something off. Something under the polite words that had the front of his pants already tenting, images of last night flashing through his mind. The handcuffs had only been a taste, hadn’t they? “Yes, well, paperwork and my job got in the way of me taking a personal call. What do you need, Mycroft?” Greg asked, trying to get the breathy edge out of his voice.  
A pointless gesture considering the chuckle from the other end of the phone. “What I ‘need’ is simple, Greg. Take out your gift.”

With a shaking hand he opened the drawer, taking the small box out and opening the top. Greg felt most of his face grow hot at the sight of a ‘toy’ like this with a bottle of lube. What was Mycroft thinking? “Judging by your silence I assume you have it out. Now, listen carefully or there’ll need to be a lesson on listening skills tonight. I want you to take both items to the washroom and. . “

“Mycroft! Are you insane? I can’t just. . I’m at work!” He said softly, eyes darting to the door as if someone could see through the blinds. The door wasn’t even locked for Christ sakes! “One point for interrupting. Now, take both items to the washroom, get in one of the stalls, and first take a picture of you using it in your mouth. I really want a good one of that.”

“After that I need you to use your new ‘friend’ on yourself. Or ‘in’ you I guess would be the correct phrase here. Now, remember this part carefully, I did not give the okay for you to relieve yourself. Now, be a good boy.” Mycroft finished before the line went dead.

The whole time Greg had been sitting there, numb hand covering the lid covering the few items that were about to make his afternoon something close to a nightmare. As the phone lowered to the desk he spread his legs somewhat, feeling the front of his trousers grow almost uncomfortably tight. It was disgusting, deplorable, and so arousing.  
There was nothing saying he needed to follow through with this. So, why was he actually standing now and slipping the items into the oddly deep pockets of the suit Mycroft had given him? No doubt a plan since last night, or even from this morning. He sure wouldn’t have put it past the elder Holmes to plan something like this out.  
Walking to the loo felt more like a dream. An out of body experience. No one else seemed to suspect a thing. There were casual greetings, common questions, but no one looked at his pockets or called out what a pervert he was. Everything seemed to be going on without a hitch.

The four stalled washroom was empty, his loafers making barely any noise as he took the one at the farthest end. He did take a minute to make sure the cracks weren’t that big.  
It felt like his hands were about to simply shake off as pulled the toy out first. Brand new just for him, eh? Lifting it up to his lips his tongue darted out to lick at the plastic head, cheeks stained with color. Fuck, what was he doing?

Remembering the pictures he was forced to use his other hand for the camera phone, having to assume the angle. Mycroft hadn’t exactly specified how many pictures to take but when the fake head was between his lips Greg took another one, hearing the faint ‘click’ of the camera he never used. It was barely above a whisper but as he sat there giving a fake dick the same attention he’d given Mycroft last night it felt like a blaring alarm.

Swirling his tongue around the fake head he stared right into the camera for the last shot, lowering both items now. His excitement was quickly rising, only peeking more at the sheer knowledge it was more than easy to be caught right now.

Sending the few pictures he’d taken Greg almost left the restroom then, heart pounding as the phone simply buzzed with a text. No call?

‘You look a tad bit disappointed. Do you miss the real thing already? –Mycroft’

Had it been that obvious over a crummy phone picture? 

‘Do I really have to do this?’ He sent back, trying to calm himself for the reply he knew would come.

‘Of course. No cumming yet. Remember that clearly. –Mycroft’

Setting the phone on top of the paper box he stood now, having to juggle both the toy and lube bottle in one hand as the other slipped the pants down to his knees. Capping the little bottle it went back into his pocket, free hand grabbing up the phone again.

It did occur to him that this might hurt more than a bit since he wasn’t exactly preparing himself like Mycroft had done last night. There just wasn’t time! Pressing the solid head against his entrance Greg spread his legs as best as possible, biting the inside of his cheek as the first click of the camera went off. “Mycroft, you twat. . “ Greg breathed, pushing it in himself slowly.

His own cock head was dripping, leaving a small spot on the shirt hanging down. “Fuck.” He hissed while pushing it in deeper, trying to remember to relax. He needed Mycroft here for this. Closing his eyes he tried to remember last night more clearly. The way Mycroft had used that little toy on him. The exciting memory made it easier to start fucking himself, barely caring about the camera now as he pushed it in deeper.

Lestrade could almost hear Mycroft commenting on what a lewd body he had. The way he’d been put into such a helpless position. “Unnh!” Greg moaned softly, thrusting his hips back now as the phone fell to the floor. Reaching out to brace himself against the stall door he kept going now, eyes closed tight as his hand kept moving. It wasn’t quite as good as last night but it was enough to get him excited. God, he wanted Mycroft inside him! The thick rod replacing this stupid little plastic thing!  
Clutching at the top of the stall door he had to remind him that Mycroft hadn’t wanted him to cum to this. A little voice egged him further on. How would Mycroft know? Another voice could only mention how Mycroft would know. There was no certain way to say how but that damned bastard would find out somehow.

Even with his heart pounding and throbbing erection pleading for mercy he went through the process of cleaning up. Wrapping the almost well used item in paper he slipped it back into the pocket with lube before trying to fix his pants.

Grabbing his phone he pulled up Mycrofts number to send the pictures. A hand absently reached down to stroke himself, a low moan working its way out before he bit down at his lower lip. He really didn’t have time to wait anymore.

Cleaning himself up Greg tried to act like everything was normal as he went to wash his hands, making sure the little spots on his shirt were hidden by the jacket before leaving the washroom.

It was rude to rush past people but walking was difficult enough. He needed some sort of relief or at least to sit down and think of anything else that might be able to ease his mind away from this pulsing heat between his legs.

Almost on cue the phone started ringing when he had sat down, causing him to laugh weakly before answering. “Lestrade.”

“Not bad. The angle was a tad on the shaky side but I do remember this is your first time doing something like that. Judging by the way you’re breathing you must be quite cross with my last order.” Mycroft laughed softly, sounding ever so pleased with himself.

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose Greg just gave a sigh, feeling more than a little annoyed at himself and this man. “You could say that. Honestly I’m more pissed at myself for going through with it. I really didn’t have to.” Greg said firmly, almost warning Mycroft to not push his luck. The cocky laugh was hardly the response one would want when trying to gain back some control.

Greg felt his grip grow tighter on the phone as he pictured Mycroft shaking his head somewhat. “That little part of yourself that craves someone taking control needed to. I am just giving you an outlet for things you’re trying to convince yourself you do not want but we both know that’s a lie.” Mycroft explained, voice somehow holding strings to his still aching flesh.

“You’re really making me do this?”

“I’m not really ‘making’ you do anything, Greg. That’s the wrong way to think of it. So, shall I see you tonight, my dear inspector?”

There was barely a hesitating moment as Greg sighed his answer weakly.

“What time?”


	6. Perfect Pace

A car waiting after work? At first it had sounded rather exciting. It would take him right to Mycroft and then. . just remembering the detailed words had his ears burning. Even with paperwork to distract him his mind was more focused on the box sitting back in the drawer, and what could be expected that night.

As the hours tipped down though he felt hesitant, and a little urge to make Mycroft pay a little bit for everything that had been going on. When it finally came time to leave he acted normal as always, ignoring the butterflies welling up in his gut while slipping out the back entrance with the little box in hand. That car driver could just tell Mycroft there was no one to pick up.

It was in the cab when his phone started to ring, making his heart jump somewhat. “Not this time, Holmes.” Greg murmured, hitting the mute button with a tiny laugh. That little voice in the back of his head was telling him to be careful. A man like Mycroft didn’t really seem to be the type to just give up without something to show for it.  
What would happen? With the phone on silent he didn’t bother checking anything until the cab had pulled up in front of his place. “Thanks.” He commented while stepping out of the cab, glancing around as if somehow Mycroft would be hanging around just waiting for him.

Finally inside he glanced at the phone, grinning a bit before heading over to simply lie back on the couch. Maybe tonight he’d finally get some sleep. Truth be told last night after their ‘date’ had been one of the best sleeps in recent memory. Thinking about last night had his blood warming up, and it was a welcome distraction from the silence of the flat.  
At least her smell was gone from the place. She’d always smelled like a mix between lilacs and roses. For a good few months after she’d left the flat just reeked of the smell. He’d go to open the closet and it would just hit him in the face. Closing his eyes he sighed weakly, wondering if the last few months could have just been a really annoying dream.  
The hollow feeling in his chest was far too painful just to be a dream. Finally sitting up he looked at the little box sitting on the coffee table, feeling far too lonely for his taste. Maybe just a few minutes with himself would help? Most likely not but trying couldn’t hurt. It would certainly distract him for a good little while at least.

Grabbing the box he stood, heading for the bedroom when there was a solid knock on the door. Now the phone buzzed with a text, the buzzing noise drawing him over to the table near the door.

‘Get in the car. We shall discuss this later. –Mycroft’

The threat was quite clear. Either get in the car or risk causing even more trouble for himself. Well, it was far better than being alone with memories, right?  
The driver had already returned to the car, waiting for him to get in. “So, how mad is he about this whole mess?” Greg asked as he slipped inside.

“I can’t really say. He just told me to come here, sir.”

It was a blunt answer and the tone made it clear not to bother continuing the conversation. Maybe Mycroft had gotten cross with the man? Looking out the window Greg almost laughed. Why did Mycroft care that it was him that came over? No doubt a man like him had others. Many others no doubt. Maybe it was the idea of breaking him in? The idea of being used in such a way should have bothered him a bit more. Just being used until he was broken in. Instead it was rather nice.  
Mycroft wanted him. At least for the moment. For the time being simply having someone want him was enough. Just the perfect pace.

 

Walking into the house Lestrade knew there wouldn’t be a nice little dinner waiting around. Remembering the way to the bedroom was easy enough but a sharp voice from the sitting area had him pausing.

Always in control Mycroft Holmes stood there beside the couch, arms crossed and eyes nearly on fire. “You look a little tense, Holmes. Maybe a drink?” Greg chuckled, watching the frustration build up on the others face as he stepped closer. A dangerous game but one he just couldn’t stop playing! “Is there a specific reason you avoided the car? And without any warning. Quite rude.” Mycroft said, eyes roving downward and pausing at the little box under Gregs arm and then pausing between his legs.

Mycroft seemed to roll his shoulders slightly before looking up to make eye contact again. “No real reason. I guess I just wanted to make you sweat a bit.” Greg said honestly, tensing somewhat as a hand reached out to grab the collar of his shirt. With a harsh yank Lestrade felt himself pulled up against the others body, box falling to the floor as his hands reached up to attempt a push away. Instead of relenting Mycroft pulled him closer, body tensing.

“Greg!” Mycrofts tone was what drew his attention, their eyes meeting as Holmes pulled him closer until their lips were pressed together. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. Greg felt the other bite at his lower lip, a punishing act that had his grip growing tighter on the mans shoulders but he didn’t try to push away. Each little point of pain sent a shiver down his spine, causing Greg to actually press closer.

Maybe he had been baiting Mycroft to see his reaction, and judging by this kiss there would be one hell of a reaction. “Bend over the bar.”

Frowning slightly at the command he went to do it anyway, hating that they were still in the sitting room. It was doubtful anyone would just walk into Mycrofts townhome but the idea was more than he wanted to consider. This couldn’t get around at work! “Can’t we go to the bedroom or something?” He asked, looking over at Mycroft until his gaze caught the couch.

Greg felt his breath hitch in his throat, fingers digging into the polish wood. A riding crop laid there almost blending into the black leather of the couch but it was so out of place! For a moment he couldn’t look away until he saw a pale hand pick it up, eyes following the arm up to Mycrofts face. A mask of control and mockery. “Lose the pants, Greg.” He chuckled softly.

It took a second to undo the belt, button, and zipper with how shaky his hands were. When the pants finally dropped his hands went right back to the bar, head lowered. He could hear Mycroft coming closer and even heard the riding crop as it was swung through the air.

When it was slammed onto the bar next to his hand Greg almost jumped, body tensing a bit. Even when the crop was lifted from the bar he didn’t dare look up, not wanting to know when it would happen. Plus, he was sure Mycroft wouldn’t be pleased with him looking if it hadn’t been ordered.

Greg gasped softly when it was first just brushed against his ass, Mycroft almost tenderly stroking at the pale globes of flesh before pulling away and bringing the leather back down hard.

The first hit was a stinging pain that had Greg jerking forward, head thrown back on a loud cry. “Bloody hell. . !” He cursed, tears already welling up as Mycroft ordered him back in place. The sting radiated through his lower body but the pain was short lived when the crop was brought back down again and again.

It wasn’t just over after a few hits. Mycroft allowed the pain from the last blow to sink in before giving another. After a point it was a dull warmth that seemed to pulse through the no doubt red flesh. Blinking back tears Greg dared to look over his shoulder, grip growing tighter on the bar at the look on my Mycrofts face.  
Setting the crop down Mycroft placed a soothingly cool hand on the punished area, cupping the hot area and smiling a bit at the trembling running through the others body. “I wonder if your lesson was learned, Mr. Lestrade.” He asked, the hand slowly reaching around the front of Gregs body.

Embarrassment had him resting his forehead against the cool wood of the bar, a shaking breath catching in his throat when the steady hand started teasing at the swollen head of his cock. “Interesting.” Mycroft chuckled softly, running his hand along the shaft and basking in the way Greg was trying to pretend it did nothing for him. The little gasps of pleasure mixing with the pain whenever he brushed against the still sore ass.

Greg arched into the hand, hips almost having a mind of their own. “Please. . don’t. . “ He begged weakly when Mycroft completely pulled away. “I like this look about you. So willing to do whatever is needed so you can get off. I must admit I’m really quite fond of it.” Mycroft chuckled, sitting back on the couch with his legs spread.

It took a moment to turn around, the shame keeping him glued over the bar for a moment until Mycroft cleared his throat to get his attention. Walking over to the couch he knelt down, ignoring the hard wood pressed into his knees. Complaining wouldn’t exactly help him right now, and there was no telling what else Mycroft might make him do.

As the crop came towards his face Greg winced, heart pounding awkwardly for a second until Holmes merely gave a laugh. “How does it feel to lose the control, Greg? If it’s too embarrassing to say I’d let you show it.” Mycroft said calmly, running the end of the crop over Gregs cheek and under his chin. Such a pretty sight it was.

Taking the hint Lestrade leaned forward, pressing his lips against the bulge straining against the dark dress pants. This had to be the most relaxed he’d ever seen Mycroft. The man actually looked relaxed with his legs spread, leaning back against the couch with his arms hanging over the back end. So, the cocky twat was letting him do everything?  
If that were the case Greg would be sure to make the other lose control. Undoing the dress pants a warm hand reached inside, cheeks flushing at finding no underwear to confine Mycrofts impressive length. It was a little surprising to picture someone with Mycrofts power just handling such important business without on underneath his pants. A rather naughty little secret indeed.

At the impatient cough from the other Greg pulled the hot girth from the opening, fingers stroking the entirety as it simply overwhelmed him again. How could something like this fit inside him? Leaning closer he first licked at the already dripping slit, mouth nearly aching at the slightly familiar taste. Swallowing that little bit down he took in more, a hand bracing him on Mycrofts knee.

It felt like his throat was being impaled the more he took in, having to breathe through his nose while a hand took up to pleasuring the part he couldn’t quite fit in. As a hand took residence at the back of his head Greg braced himself, prepared for a final thrust of hips that would surely cause an embarrassing gag. Instead the hand pulled his head back before pushing it back down.

Greg almost growled in frustration at Mycroft trying to take control over even this! Taking up the bobbing motion now he paused only long enough to swirl his tongue around the head, swallowing down any of the delicious treat that came out. His hand was still stroking the shaft as his head moved. Even with his jaw growing tired he didn’t dare stop. 

“Enough now.” 

The crop was again pressed to his cheek, the tiniest tap enough to pull Greg away from the task at hand. “Why stop? You’re obviously enjoying it.” Greg said with a brazen smirk, giving one final stroke that had Mycrofts hips arching slightly off the couch and his eyes glazing over for a minute or two. “Naughty boy.” He sighed, pushing the other way with the tip of the crop before standing.

Even with his groin hanging out Mycroft Holmes could act like he was completely fine with it. The confidence never waving for a second as he snapped his fingers, giving a ‘follow me’ gesture while leaving the room. With Mycroft walking off Greg didn’t bother pulling his pants back on, only carrying them to the bedroom where he was being led.  
“I hear you called Sherlock to one of your cases today.” Mycroft commented as they walked, glancing back at Greg once. At seeing the man trying to cover himself with the balled up pants he nearly chuckled, finding it almost endearing to watch the embarrassment and shame fill his face.

“I did. He wasn’t exactly thrilled since the case wasn’t ‘exciting’ enough but I gave him your message.” Greg replied, not really sure if he wanted to talk about Sherlock right now. A little memory did come to mind though. “How did you know about Sherlock and John? It had never occurred to me that they were together.” He asked, blushing deeper when Mycroft reached out to yank the pants from his grip.

“Is it not obvious? Though, do keep it a secret, shall you? Sherlock would be most cross if his private life leaked out. He’s a very private person.” Mycroft chuckled, dropping the others pants at the foot of the bed before heading over to the dresser. “Enough about them. Those delightful pictures you sent earlier were nice but you didn’t send as many the second time around. Is there a specific reason for that?” 

Trembling slightly in remembrance Greg shook his head, crossing his arms. “Not really. Just an. . awkward angle for taking pictures.” He lied smoothly but his voice was shaky even to his own ears. To someone like Mycroft the answer would already be clear.

“Really now? If you’re honest I might feel the need to reward you.” Mycroft said, opening the dresser drawer and pulling it open slowly.

Damn, what should he say? Looking at the closed bedroom door Greg felt embarrassment and shame keep him silent, heart pounding even as his excitement mounted. “I. . I wanted enjoying it too much. Taking the pictures was too distracting.” Lestrade admitted in a small voice, eyes lingering on the floor now. “What was that? I don’t think I quite caught that.”

“I was enjoying fucking myself too much to bother with your damned pictures!” He snapped angrily, glaring over at Holmes who had an eyebrow raised in question. “Such an outburst. Of course, you were honest, weren’t you?” Mycroft said as he started pulling items from the drawer.

“Why don’t you finish getting comfortable and lie down for me? Make sure to keep those curious little eyes of yours closed.” He said with a smile that had Gregs body going numb. Still, he went through the motions of pulling his shirt off and sitting on the bed, wincing a little bit at how tender his ass still was. That crop certainly had done a number on him.

 

Finally laid out on the bed he leaned up on his elbows for a moment, watching Mycroft take his cheery time with everything. “Down, eyes closed, and hands above your head.” He ordered without so much as looking up. It was truly like the twat expected everyone to simply do as he said. Well, that he truly expected Greg to do as he said. “Greg. . “ Mycroft warned, hands stilling in the drawer for a moment.

The unsaid threat had him lying out, eyes closing and arms going above his head. So, he would be tied up again and left to this mans mercy? God, he really needed to figure out what about this was so arousing just so he could try to fix it. The throbbing between his legs was unbearable, which most likely had to do with not cumming before and getting beat a few moments ago.

Greg tried to listen out for Mycroft coming closer but the sound of his own racing heart canceled out anything else. So, when there was the slight give of the bed on one side he jumped somewhat until the familiar chuckle hit his ears. “It’s not funny, Holmes.” He said, eyes still closed tightly as something fuzzy wrapped around both his wrists. No doubt the same cuffs from last night.

After that something cool was placed against his face, right over his still closed eyes. “Mycroft! No!” Greg barked, trying to shake the blindfold off until a strong hand grabbed at the sensitive sac between his legs. The action promptly had Lestrade growing still, even his breath stopping for a moment at the shock. “Do you not trust me, inspector? I have only done things you desire, have I not?” He asked, kneading the delicate flesh carefully.  
The actions hadn’t hurt but just startled. “Mycroft. . “ Greg said the name softly, pleadingly. When the fingers let go he finally relaxed until a small kiss was placed at the head of his erect cock. “My dear Lestrade, trust me. Give me five minutes and you will forget all about that blind fold.”  
It seemed rather impossible to forget about the object currently blinding him but Greg could only agree, hoping Mycroft would keep to his word after the five minutes.

 

Barely five minutes later and Lestrade was trying to thrust his hips onto the fingers working him lose again. It was still tight but brushing against the bundle of nerves in his body had things heating up a lot faster. “Ah! Y-yes. . “ Greg moaned, biting at the inside of his cheek. With his eyes covered everything else felt more sensitive. He wanted to beg for more even as his pride kept the words sealed shut.

Biting harder at the inside of his mouth he winced at the coppery taste of blood. “Putting pride before your pleasure? Even without seeing your eyes I can see the struggle. The way your body arches against my fingers, sucking me in deeper. If you crave more you really should just say it.” Mycroft said, brushing his fingertip against the others prostate slowly just to watch him struggle. “You are s-such a t-twat. . “ Greg nearly groaned, turning his head away as if not wanting to look at him anymore.

Each little brush of the others finger-tip sent a wild charge through him, giving just enough pleasure to keep him rock hard but suffering. When Mycroft seemed to grow bored of the game he removed each finger, leaving Greg feeling even more frustrated as he arched his hips. God, he just wanted more! Just a little bit more!

“Fuck!”

The word was torn from his lips at a sharp pinch to his nipples. Something hard and a bit sharp being clipped to them. “Fuck me. . “ Greg moaned it softly, pulling at the cuffs until his wrists hurt but Mycroft could only laugh softly. “In short time.” He said, leaning over the trembling body to take a tiny taste of him.

Maybe pride should have had him fighting even that but his lips parted easily, allowing Mycroft whatever he wanted. When a smooth hand reached up to stroke his cheek he nearly melted. Most likely it was the lack of physical work but Holmes had such soft hands. Feeling one brush over his cheek Greg nearly moaned into the kiss, trembling more so when he felt Mycroft lick at the little bite mark in his cheek.

“I never said you were allowed to harm yourself, foolish boy.” Mycroft murmured after pulling away, giving his cheek a gentle tap.

Mycroft tugged lightly at the chain connecting the nipple clamps, watching Gregs body jerk up as he cried out. “Anything you wish to say?”  
“Please, Mycroft, just. . more. I need something inside me. Please!” Greg finally begged, happily throwing his pride to the wind for this moment. He could almost feel the warmth from the twats smile, no doubt Mycroft was quite pleased with this.

Feeling Mycroft move around on the bed Greg braced himself, wondering what new toy would be used now. Instead the full weight of the other went between his legs, a steady hand grasping at his right thigh to part his legs further. “What are you doing?” Greg asked in a slightly panicked voice. “Exactly what you requested. You wish to be fucked further and what better tool for the job?”

There was a harsh tug on the clamps, drawing his attention for a second as Mycroft pushed himself slowly into Greg. Even with barely any inside him Lestrade felt more stretched than he had before with the fingers or toys.

“God, it feels like I’m being torn in two. . “ Greg moaned, trying to breath. When Mycroft kissed him again the odd tenderness of it helped ease the tension, his body relaxing enough for more of his lover to be pushed in deeper. Moaning into Mycrofts mouth he arched up, stuck in a middle ground of pleasure laced pain.  
Those toys had felt nothing like this. The warmth filling every inch of him, pushing him to a limit never before explored. Even without being able to see Mycroft he could hear the labored breathing telling how hard it was for him to hold back, and the tight grip of the hand on his thigh as the other braced against the bed.

With a final grunt Mycroft gave a final thrust, taking the muffled scream from Gregs lips with a kiss. Swallowing down the others pain he remained still for a moment, almost seeming to savor the feeling of it all.

Greg finally gave a small movement, nodding slightly to say he was ready. Mycroft being so gentle about this whole thing seemed rather odd but he was glad for it. Something like this being shoved into him without warning or adjustment would have ended badly. Hell, even with most of what Mycroft had done it still hurt but the pain was slowly fading.  
The movements were slow at first until he gave an impatient moan that had the other giving a breathy laugh. With a slight roll of the hips Greg felt the other brush against that bundle of nerves again, sending his hips arching and head thrown back on a soundless cry. “Fuck yes!” Greg moaned shamelessly when Mycroft started moving faster, the sound and feel of their lower bodies slamming together giving him even more of a thrill.

He could almost picture the sight of Mycroft fucking him. “Mycroft. . “ He whimpered the name, hating the sound of his own voice at the moment. There was no helping it. The release he craved was so damned close! The head of his cock was almost in pain, the throbs in tune with each hard thrust of the others hips.  
As the pace increased Greg could feel the bed moving beneath them, it even gave a few creaks of protest from the fast movements. Now his movements were coming harder, punishing as the hand left his thigh to wrap around his straining girth.

“So. . close. . “ He groaned, arms straining against the cuffs as he tried to move. Their labored breaths blended together until finally Greg felt the familiar pressure building in his lower body, that blinding white light filling his closed off vision as he screamed both to God and Mycroft.  
There was no pulling out for Mycroft it seemed as he felt a warm sensation fill him, body trembling from the unfamiliar sensation. For a man who had enjoyed quite a few sexual encounters during his younger days there sure as hell were a lot of things he’d been missing out on.

The thought had him laughing weakly before giving a cough, throat dry from the moaning and screaming. “Saying ‘thank you’ doesn’t really seem to fit this. . situation. . “ He murmured as he felt Mycroft pull out, his face warming up a bit more at how empty he felt and how. . dirty he felt.

Without a word the cuffs were undone, the blindfold left in place for him to remove. Yanking it off he tried to sit up before simply lying back down, breathing heavily as he watched Mycroft stand. “How are you able to walk after that?” Greg asked, barely able to keep his eyes open but a shower just wouldn’t wait until tomorrow morning.  
Getting off of the bed was easier said than done it seemed. The dull ache in his lower body was quite a pain in the arse, leaving Lestrade barely able to take a few steps without rubbing at the base of his spine and tossing Mycroft a glare. “Any more glaring and I might take offense.” Mycroft scolded.

Rolling his eyes Greg headed to the bathroom, just wanting to feel a bit clean again. With a casual glance at himself in the mirror he caught sight of the clamps still attached to his chest, causing a mental scolding to himself. Reaching up to take them off he was stopped by a clearing of the throat from the bathroom door.  
“I don’t remember saying you could remove those.” Mycroft said, walking over to give them a gentle tug to turn Greg towards him. “If you ask nicely I might let you remove these while we dine, or would you rather them remain here the entire time?”

“I never agreed to have dinner with you again, Holmes. I need to get home and get some rest. There’s still work tomorrow!” Greg tried to explain but a sharp yank to the clamps had the words dying in his throat. “I merely said dinner, or are there other. . activities on your mind, Mr. Lestrade?” Mycroft asked calmly, the confidence in his expression causing Gregs temper to flare slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you lot are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. haha. Everyone needs a hobby, right? Mine just happens to revolve around the delicious ideas that pop up in my head.


	7. Proving a point

Slapping the hand away from his chest Greg pointed towards the door, expression firm and set. “Out! You owe me at least a peaceful shower so just. . out!” He repeated, breathing heavily for a second as Mycroft searched his face.

“The embarrassment is understandable. Do forgive me if I have overstepped a social boundary.” Mycroft finally spoke, reaching out for Gregs hand and bringing it to his lips. The actions felt like another insult. When the lips brushed over the tan line for the missing ring his breath caught, heart jerking painfully as he yanked his hand away roughly. “Ah, I see.” He murmured, bowing his head. “If you will excuse me.”

Being alone was exactly what he asked for. It just felt like a hollow victory as he turned the shower on and got in, leaving the clamps on the bathroom counter. Having a peaceful moment to enjoy a hot shower was just what the doctor ordered but it would be a lie to say he didn’t keep looking at the door. With the glass shower stall he could easily steal a couple of glances to see if anyone else walked in.

Even after showering off Greg didn’t exactly feel any better. Beyond the dull ache in his lower back he kept looking at his ring finger, something like guilt tearing him apart. They weren’t married anymore! She was the one who’d left and made it clear things would never go back. His old life was gone with her. It had been dead for a good while. Mycroft had done that on purpose, hadn’t he?

Greg laughed softly at the thought. Mycroft had done that just to judge his reaction, right?

Grabbing one of the robes hanging up on the back of door he stepped out of the steam filled bathroom, wishing there was something else for him to wear. “Mycroft?” Greg called, noticing that everything was cleaned up now like they had never. . done. . that.

The only sign left behind was the faint scent of sex. A musky scent that had his toes almost curling against the cool wood of the floor. Walking closer to the bed he sat on the edge of it, eyes closing for a moment. The silence helping his mind wander a bit. At a sharp knock to the door he stood quickly, holding the robe closed tighter as he tried to think of who it could be.

“Mr. Lestrade?” Josephine asked before poking her head inside, giggling softly at the sight of him wearing only a bathroom. “Mr. Holmes asked me to bring these to you. He is waiting in the dining room, sir.” She said, placing the clothes at the foot of the bed and blushing a bit. No doubt it was already gossip among those that worked around Mycroft that he was shagging some random bloke. A little sniffing around would easily turn up who he was.

Alone again he picked up the clothes, frowning a bit. These looked exactly like an outfit he was quite fond of wearing. Checking the seams on the left inner thigh Greg rubbed at his eyes for a moment. Did Mycroft honestly have someone break into his home for these clothes? It did seem a little on the extreme side but it wasn’t like there was anything to hide at the flat. Just books scattered everywhere, with a few left over pictures from the wedding and little points after that.

At least he was back in his own clothes. A comfortable pair of jeans and a slightly worn out gray plaid button-up his Ex had started hating when it lost two of the middle buttons. While hurrying down the hallway Greg rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, finding it a comfort to be in something so familiar while still. . here.

Coming across Mycroft it was easy to tell the man had showered somewhere else, but he was still dressed in a suit. Leaning on the doorway into the dining room Greg watched Mycroft look over papers in front of him, knowing that the sharp minded twat had already noticed him. Nothing went unnoticed around a Holmes.

“Staring is actually considered quite rude within most social settings. Is there something I can help you with?” Mycroft finally asked without looking up but it felt like those stormy eyes were burning into him. “Not really. I think you’ve done more than your fair share.” Greg mumbled, pushing away from the door frame and taking a few careful steps toward the table.

There was no place setting for food, not even the smell of dinner. The pit in his stomach grew heavier at the idea of Mycroft simply telling him to go after that little lashing out in the bathroom. “Are you going to eat anything?”

Now Mycroft did look up, one groomed eyebrow raised in question before he leaned back in the stiff backed chair. “It had not occurred to me at this point in time. Of course, the matter hardly concerns you.” He said, resting a hand over the small stack of papers sitting in front of him. “Or did you change your mind about that ‘rest’ you were going on about a few moments ago?”

A lie would have been easy to come up with, or even a simple witty comment and storm off but Mycroft would see through it. “The idea of being at my flat. . alone, doesn’t exactly thrill me. My only options are either get drunk at some seedy pub, or stay here. Even if I were to try for a pub you’d still send someone for me, wouldn’t you?” Greg asked, watching the others lips curl into a little smirk.

Even without being asked Greg walked up to stand beside the others chair, sucking in a tiny breath when a warm finger reached into where the missing buttons should have been. “Also, you had someone break into my flat just for clothes? You do realize how insane that sounds, right?” Lestrade asked, frowning down at Mycroft. “You never really seemed comfortable in the suits. Would the robe have been better?”

Tilting the others head back he leaned down, kissing him firmly. When the warmth started spreading through his chest Greg pulled away to take a seat to Mycrofts side since he sat at the head of the table. “I guess I should say thanks. You even had your little lackeys grab my favorite clothes as well. No doubt you just told them to grab what looked the most worn but was either folded or hanging, right?” Greg asked, grinning when Mycroft laughed softly. “No wonder Sherlock is fond of you.”

 

It was almost possible to forget everything that had happened up to that point. The humiliating way Mycroft had him. . pleasuring himself in the loo at work, and the way Mycroft had fucked him nearly senseless. The main reminder was a tight feeling in his lower back, causing some discomfort. At least Mycroft was at least capable of holding a decent conversation that wasn’t just picking every detail about his dinner guest apart.

“More wine?”

Innocent enough offer. Plus, it helped ease what tension that was. Most if it being on Gregs side of everything. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about this.  
A part of him was embarrassed over sleeping with another man but the company was nice. Mycroft at least wanted him to be around. Taking a sip of the dark liquid he leaned back in the chair, frowning a moment. “Your workers most likely have to sign some sort of document to keep them silent, don’t they?” He blurted, looking at Mycroft.  
“Of course. If your worry is for those at your place of work finding out there is little chance of that. Much like Sherlock I much prefer my private life to remain as such. So, while I doubt this would come up in polite conversation, please take care not to mention this to Sherlock.” Mycroft said firmly. “Why on earth would I even consider telling Sherlock about. . this? It’s not even like we’re in a relationship like him and Watson. This little experiment of yours isn’t anyone else’s business.” Greg rambled, setting the glass down to pour a bit more.

“Greg, I would recommend stopping now. Putting yourself in an emotional state while drinking isn’t wise.”

“I’m not emotional. I was just agreeing with you! Besides, I’m done with relationships. The whole. . thing. What’s going on now is good. Nothing complicated unless it gets out at work but now it’s fine.” Greg murmured, taking another sip before standing quickly to grab Mycroft.

For a moment the lips were still under his, a hand reaching up to press into his shoulder. “Don’t you dare push me away, Holmes.” He warned, not realizing how pathetic he must have sounded to someone like Mycroft.

As the other stood Greg felt himself be pushed back onto the table, arms linking around his waist as his own hands grabbed onto the freshly pressed suit jacket. The musk of another man easily pushed away the lilac-rose mess that threatened to draw him back into the depressed funk that had allowed him to fall into Mycrofts grip in the first place.  
The hard edge of the table caused him to groan softly, trying to push away from it until Mycroft pressed him harder against it. When his grip grew tighter Mycroft broke off from the kiss, hands resting at Gregs sides. “Not the suit.” He said, nodding at the edge of the table.

Reaching down to grasp at the table Greg frowned until a soft hand went between his legs, causing the rough denim to rub against his groin. Already the blood was leaving his head at an alarming rate, making the room spin for a heartbeat until Mycroft leaned over to kiss at his neck.

“If this is to be a distraction it should be a good one. Don’t you agree, Greg?” He asked, tightening his grip slightly. “Yes.” He moaned, squeezing at the edge of the table for a moment until a high pitched ringing had Mycroft pulling away.

For a moment Greg was left breathing heavy, still leaning against the table like more would happen. Mycroft had already backed away and had the cell phone in hand chatting away in a perfectly even tone. Had that really just happened?

Standing straight with arms crossed he watched Mycroft back away, focus on the phone call. For a moment Greg felt less that caring about what the others job was until he took a small breath, taking a seat again. Maybe it was a sign that he needed to leave. Not to mention with the type of job Mycroft did there was no telling what the conversation might be about.

When a hand ran over the back of his head he looked up in question. Mycroft still chatted away calmly, fingers rubbing at the back of Gregs head like he was a prized cat. When Mycroft started to move away he reached out, grabbing between Mycrofts legs and nearly laughing when the man actually stumbled on his words.  
“Ah, no, do forgive me. Just got something caught in my throat.” Mycroft chuckled, tossing something close to a glare down at Greg who just smiled and started kneading. When the other grasped at his chin Greg was forced to look up, trembling at the stern gaze but there was a mix of amusement.  
“Yes. I will call you later to finish the details.”

At the ‘click’ of the phone Greg held tightly at the arm rests of the chair, unable to pull away from the grip. “Just cannot wait for more attention, hm? Have I spoiled you already?” He asked with a little sigh, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against Gregs forehead. There was something in the way he said that that had Greg trembling, wondering what exactly was going to be done to him next.

“Tea? Josephine!”

They both settled back in their seats as the maid came hurrying, smiling politely at them both. A few brief words later and everything was set out. “She’s pretty good. Seems like a good fit here.” Greg commented after Josephine had served their tea and left.

“She does her job. Do your eyes always focus on the leaving arse of a female or is it just my maid?” Mycroft asked in a collected voice, eyes fixed on steam rising from the tea cup. “I wasn’t. . I mean. . there’s no harm in looking. I’m not about to go shag your maid.” Greg explained, cheeks growing hot at how obvious it was that Mycroft was not pleased with him now. “Just drink your tea. There really is no reason to be worked up about it.” Mycroft explained with a faint chuckle.

The first sip was on the warm side but the taste was. . different. Almost spicy. After a few sips Mycroft seemed to grow more calm, even carrying on a conversation that didn’t seem laced with sarcastic undertones.

Setting the cup down Greg rubbed at his neck slightly, frowning a bit. “Warm, inspector?”

“Not really. Just. . it’s nothing.” Greg said, looking into the dark liquid still swirling around in his cup. “Your face is awfully flushed, not to mention your irises are dilated. A fever perhaps?” Mycroft asked, already reaching over to touch the mans face without waiting for a response. “Ah. . “ He sucked in a breath, feeling the cool hand rest first on his forehead before cupping his cheek.

Wiggling slightly in the chair he tried to pull away but the cooling hand was so tempting. “What thoughts are running through your mind now to cause such a reaction?” Mycroft asked softly. “What the hell did you do to me, Holmes?” Greg growled, shoving the comforting hand away much to Mycrofts amusement. Not bothering for an answer he went to leave, ignoring how weak his knees felt until a hand slamming on the table brought his attention back to the still sitting man.  
“Greg, come here. Now.”

His voice was razor thin, the warning of power in each word. As the blood quickly pooled between his legs again Lestrade leaned against the doorframe for a moment, excitement making him almost dizzy. 

“No.”

The surprise was there for only a heartbeat until Mycroft stood, causing Greg to stand straight and back away. It was always fun to throw a Holmes brother for a loop but one couldn’t keep it up forever. “Does the naughty boy wish to be chased? How adorable but how far can one make it when the runners eyes are elsewhere but on escape?”  
Looking up from between the others legs he blushed darkly, almost cursing himself. It felt like a fallen bird staring into the eyes of a snake coming ever closer. The fear was licking up his spine, sending warning signals to the soon to be victims brain it was time to run. Still, Greg couldn’t move beyond a half-hearted step backwards that ended when Mycroft ‘tsked’ him again.

“What did you do to me?” He asked again as a hand reached out to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him close to that wonderful musky scent. “Call it an. . experiment. An overdue one.” Mycroft chuckled softly, kissing his lips softly but pulling away as Greg tried to press closer for more. At the broken moan that escaped the detectives lips Mycroft gave a tiny chuckle, kissing his cheek almost tenderly.

Using the shirt as sort of a leash Mycroft started pulling the lustful fellow down the hallway, not pausing as they passed Josephine. “You may leave for the night.” He said simply as her eyes lingered on Greg, cheeks going crimson. “Goodnight, Josephine.” Mycroft said, giving Gregs shirt a harsh yank when his eyes nearly went to the young maid already hurrying off.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Greg asked, glaring at the other even while still being led down the hallway by his shirt. “And what if I did? Do you really feel so offended on her behalf that you need to go after her? Would you prefer her company over mine?”

It was easy to use the excuse of whatever Mycroft had drugged him with. Sighing in annoyance Greg pushed the perfectly suited man against the hallway wall, falling to his knees without so much as a word. “Just shut up. You’re like Sherlock in always over thinking. So just. . shut up. . “

There was no protest about the suit being messed up as Greg placed a kiss over the zipper, an encouraging hand resting at the back of his head. His attention was completely focused on the prize waiting for him, his mouth nearly aching for the slight discomfort that came with pleasuring him.

Taking the first few inches in his mouth his eyes closed, hands resting at Mycrofts hips. As the hips arched forward slightly he stole a glance upward. The stormy eyes were looking away, a confident smirk in place that had him trying to look over.

Instead the hand pulled his head down, nearly gagging him. Greg pulled away quickly, coughing a few times as tears welled up in his eyes from the shock. “Was I too rough?” Mycroft asked, finally looking down and stroking his hair. Stealing a quick glance Greg wasn’t sure what he felt at the sight of a female form almost running away. Maybe he’d care later when it didn’t feel like there was another heart beat beating between his damned legs.

Feeling the moist head run along his cheek Greg looked back up, frowning. “Would it matter if I said ‘yes’?” He murmured as Mycroft smiled. “That’s what I thought.”  
It was quite clear that Mycroft Holmes didn’t like the idea of sharing. Though it had been the furthest thing on Gregs mind to go after the pretty little maid Mycroft had been. . jealous? Was that emotion even reachable within one of the Holmes brothers? The thought had Greg mentally laughing as he pictured Sherlock growing jealous over John.  
Running his tongue over the tip he closed his eyes again, almost not caring if anyone else caught them like this. Reaching between his legs he tried to undo the buttons with one hand as the other kept him balanced against the wall Mycroft was leaning against.

God, he just really needed to get off. After that he’d be able to think clearly again and actually get out of here. Just. . right now he just needed to taste Mycroft.  
“No, Greg. Please don’t make a mess on the floor. The staff has already left for the night.” Mycroft chuckled, voice almost on the breathy side as he ran a hand over the short silver colored hair of his lover. “Please, Mycroft. . “ Greg pleaded, resting his cheek right next to his current desire.

“My poor Lestrade.” Mycroft sighed, watching the frustration play out in the mans eyes. It was such an addicting sight to see a handsome, strong man like Greg Lestrade begging to even be allowed to cum.

A few more moments and they were in the bedroom, Greg almost dragging Mycroft to the sex scented bed. His hormones were going wild, bouncing around inside of him as he started pulling the shirt off and pushed Mycroft into the bed. The drastic change of the normally nervous Lestrade was interesting, and Mycroft was quite willing to see what happened for the next little while.

Greg barely had the shirt undone as he climbed on top of his lover, kissing him hard and grinding their lower bodies together. Damn, the clothes were in the way! Wiggling out of his pants Greg kicked them away, grinning at Mycroft. “The suit stays on.” He said, finding it even more arousing to the normal image of the stern Holmes.

“You seem to really be enjoying yourself.” Mycroft commented, running his hands under the ragged shirt as Greg sat up to try and clear out some of the lustful haze. “That doesn’t mean it’s okay that you drugged me.” Greg mumbled before moaning at a sharp pinch to both his nipples. “I never said it was.”

Never sorry over anything, right? Later he’d be mad about it but the delicious sensation at his nipples nearly had him falling over, mind completely going blank. “Just. . shut it. . Holmes. . “ Greg moaned weakly, wincing slightly at the sudden tug to his chest.

Mycroft somehow had the control even in this position. 

“The night is young yet, wouldn’t you agree, Inspector?”


	8. Better than nothing

“Ten!”

The word was strained, Lestrade holding tightly on the bed sheets as the crop was brought back down onto already welt covered flesh.

“Eleven!” He cried, tears forming in his eyes now as he lowered his head. With blurry vision he could see his straining cock tied into a leather harness of sorts. His sac hanging nearly through a carefully cut hole, with everything tied up in a neat little stringed bow. His cock head was dripping but he wasn’t allowed to do anything now.

His clothes were folded into a neat pile, whereas Mycroft was still dressed in a slightly wrinkled suit. It had been embarrassing for Mycroft to take over like he had, and then the. . the sheath now wrapped around him! That had been one of the intents, of course. Mycroft wanted to embarrass him, push him to the edge.

Greg mentally tried to prepare himself for another slash of the crop, almost wanting it. The dull ache of hot flesh spread from his ass to upper thighs, only soothed by a gentle hand that cupped at the welts. The contrast had his hips arching in slight protest, fingers digging into the cover top. “Does it hurt?” Mycroft almost purred, voice dripping with pleasure as his grip grew stronger for a second until Greg moaned.

Reaching around his smooth fingers teased at the exposed sac, the other hand giving the sore ass a gentle pat. “Place a knee up on the bed and spread for me, would you?” Mycroft asked, watching Greg struggle with even that.

“My favorite thing about this lovely item keeping you under control is that it doesn’t require the normal ‘breaks’ a regular cock ring would.” He explained. “Never thought I’d hear you use that word. . “ Greg commented softly, pressing back against a teasing finger that lingered at his hole. The slight pressure was agony. “You seem amused, even in your current state. Cute, actually.”

Without a word the leather bind around his groin was removed, a hand wrapping around the full length and stroking slowly. “Mycroft, please. . don’t do this anymore!”

“And what would that be, Greg?”

“I need you inside. . me. . please. . “ Greg finally ground out, dizzy with lust at this point. He would have said anything to make Mycroft stop teasing him like this.

The only warning for what was to come was the finger leaving him completely, being replaced by something so much better. Spreading his legs wider Greg gave a low moan, pressing back. It was still such a tight fit but he loved it.

Without ruining the constant thrusts Mycroft pulled him up, holding the powerful back to his chest to tease at his nipples roughly. They were already a bit swollen from the constant attention but the added pain only seemed to increase Gregs urgency to press back, head falling onto the others shoulder as he cried out. “Such a good boy you are. Your delicious body squeezing me, your very body screaming out for more.” Mycroft almost purred, increasing his pace as Greg reached down to start stroking himself.

“Close. . “ Greg moaned, biting at his lower lip hard before his body grew stiff. He could feel Mycroft filling him inside again, the hot feeling making him tremble as he leaned back against the others body. “Guess I made quite the mess. . “ He chuckled weakly, feeling his face being turned slightly.

“I never said you were allowed to hurt yourself.” Mycroft murmured, licking at the tiny bite mark left from Greg biting his lip. Blushing lightly at the lick his lips parted for a small breath, only to have it taken by a kiss that was oddly gentle compared to before.

Greg leaned into it more, wondering how anyone could learn something like that with their tongue. Even after Mycroft pulled away he remained almost stuck in place, movements sluggish and eyes tired. “Bed. . “ Greg sighed, resting his head back against Mycrofts shoulder as if this position were completely normal.  
The last thing he remembered hearing was a faint laugh of amusement, making him grumble in annoyance at how cocky it was.

 

They said dreams happened right before a person woke up. Sometimes it just didn’t seem possible with everything that could be crammed into a dream. Greg found himself drowning in air thick with the scent of lilacs and roses, leaving him a panic induced mess until he jerked away.

Sitting up quickly he rubbed at his head before falling back and rolling onto his stomach, cursing into the pillow loudly. Reaching around he gingerly touched his rear, cursing again at how sore it still felt from the crop and. . other things. Leaning up on his elbows to get a better look around Greg wondered where Mycroft had gone again. Well, most likely work. Where he should be at this point.

Reaching out for the cell resting on the bedside table he almost jumped as it rang. “Are you watching me sleep, Mycroft?” Greg grumbled into the phone, rubbing at his throat slightly. “Actually, dear inspector, your alarm was set for exactly now. A man such as you would have no doubt gotten to the point where they woke up with or without the alarm.” Mycroft explained.

“So, you just went through my phone? Whatever. Listen, could you just. . I need to get to work fast. . “ Greg said, rubbing at his face and yawning. He might wake up easily with the alarm but that didn’t make him a morning person. There was just something annoying about that first wake up moment and with the added pleasure of an overly sore ass he felt even more pissed off.

“You can barely walk, Greg. Can you just picture the rumors that might start if you were to go into work like this? It really would be best to remain in bed today.” Mycroft said, leaving no room for argument. Not that Greg didn’t try. “Holmes! You bloody twat! I’m at least going home to sleep in my own bed!” He snapped before hanging up, wanting to be the one with the last word. Even as the phone started ringing again he shook his head.

“No, Mycroft. No!” Greg hissed, getting out of bed and rubbing at his lower back.

Heading towards the bathroom he stole a glance at the bedroom door, frowning. He gave a mental prayer that Josephine wouldn’t be stopping by the room that morning. 

Considering. . last night. . being drugged and groped in front of the woman.

Mycroft was treating him like some sort of object. With someone like Mycroft that’s all people really were, if even that. Other human beings were just things to be studied, watched and pushed aside easily. Saying Mycroft was like completely like Holmes might not have been true but Greg had been watching Sherlock for a few years now.

The two brothers were so much alike it was unnerving. Minus the big difference of Mycroft calling every few minutes if he wanted, and Sherlock sending texts if he could help it.  
Standing in the shower Greg wished he had put the phone on silent. It kept blaring, only stopping about ten minutes later. “Thank you.” Greg sighed as he finished up the shower.  
Even walking through the town home he managed to not run into Josephine, or maybe she just wasn’t there. He wasn’t exactly wanting to see her right now anyway. Just thinking about it made him remember last night. Mycroft gagging him with that huge knob of his in front of her, just to prove a damned point!

It was still early enough to head into work. Maybe a bit late but he could still go in. Darting down the front steps Greg barely made it to the side walk without mentally cursing, a habit Holmes just seemed to bring out in him as of late.

There wasn’t a car waiting this time around, making Greg wonder if Mycroft honestly expected him to stay. Doubtful. Mycroft was most likely just pouting that his new ‘toy’ wasn’t sticking around the place like a good boy.

Back at his own flat Greg sat down with a strong tea, just wanting to have a chance to think. The whole situation was quite confusing.

Without even thinking about it he was calling the only other person he could think of that might understand. . something about a Holmes.

“Lestrade? Is Sherlock not answering his texts again?” John sighed, sounding more than a little frustrated.

“No, it’s. . nothing like that. I’m not even in today. Personal issues, we can just leave’em at that. Listen, you and Sherlock are close, right?”

There was an almost uncomfortable silence as he listened to movement on the other end. “I don’t believe I understand what you’re asking.” John finally said, voice a bit lowered now.

“Were you around Sherlock or something? That doesn’t matter just. . you and Sherlock are close as one can expect with him, aren’t you?” He repeated.

“You could say that. Why do you ask? He hasn’t taken anything from you recently that I know of. It’s possible he didn’t tell me.”

“It’s not about that, but I am glad my phone has been going missing less often. I’m just wondering how do you put up with him? Don’t get me wrong. I find Sherlock to have a brilliant mind but his people skills are far less than stellar. Doesn’t he ever bait you or. . anything?” Greg asked but this conversation wouldn’t get anywhere unless he flat out asked about how to deal with a Holmes brother in a sexual way. Did John ever get the upper hand or was it all Sherlock?  
There was another small pause before John sighed. “It was Mycroft who told you, wasn’t it?”

“He mentioned it casually a little while ago. Look, I really don’t give a damn who either of you guys shag but I. . thing is, Mycroft is proving to be. . “ Greg stumbled over the question, cheeks growing warm. He was a grown man. Talking about sex shouldn’t be such a big deal. He’d had his fair share of female encounters but Holmes was definitely not a woman, and he wasn’t like other men either.

At the muffled chuckle Greg couldn’t help but laugh as well, finding that it helped for someone to know. John seemed like a pretty alright guy, and trust-worthy. He had to be if Sherlock were dragging him around everywhere. “Sorry about that. I didn’t even know you and Mycroft knew each other but I guess it makes sense with both of you dealing with Sherlock so much. So, what’s the problem?”

“I guess nothing. Just dealing with a Holmes in a personal setting is harder to cope with than I thought. It always feels like he can see whatever’s in my head. It’s just unnerving sometimes.”

“I know what you mean. Believe me. Ah, look, I should go before Sherlock tries to take the phone. He’s already standing outside the door trying to listen in!”

The voice grew distant for the last part as John didn’t want to yell into Gregs ear because his lover was going through a jealousy phase it seemed.

After a quick good-bye Greg hung up, leaning back on the couch with a loud sigh. There were things he could get done but the desire to rest his body was quite tempting. Even being alone in the flat didn’t cloud his thoughts as sleep already tiptoed back into his brain.

 

A few sharp rings of the phone next to his head had the detective grumbling awake, first checking the time. Almost one already? “Mycroft, you are such a twat.” Greg mumbled, still blaming Mycroft for this as he answered the phone.

“Lestrade. Ya. . yes I sent the papers. What do you mean I need to come re-sign them? No, don’t bother mailing them. I can be there in about half an hour. Thanks.” He said, barely able to keep the frustration out of his voice.

The rush to actually get out of the door kept him from thinking too hard about the fact ‘she’ might be there as well. It was only walking into the large law office that it even crossed his mind. Mentally the wind was knocked clear from his lungs, heart starting to race a little bit. At least the suit helped him appear better but the unease still in his lower back didn’t help the self-confidence boost.

Even after everything that had happened Greg still found himself looking casually for her. Friends said she was doing great, a fact that was both soothing and bothersome as hell. She walked out on him so why wouldn’t she be doing better than him?

He didn’t so much as catch a ‘maybe’ glance. Both a relief and huge disappointment.

“And I won’t need to come back for these? Yeah, thanks again.” Greg murmured as he sat the pen down and stood. Leaving was a bit harder than walking in it felt like. Back in the lobby he scanned the room, not sure what exactly he wanted to happen again.

Outside was where he saw a familiar figure walking towards a car parked at the curb. Like always she looked fantastic, and when he caught the familiar profile it felt like the words were super glued to his throat. Even from this distance he could see the driver of the car. No one he knew but someone who most likely knew his ex-wife very well.  
In somewhat of a daze Lestrade hailed a cab and found his way to Mycrofts townhome. Which seemed a bit of a waste. What were the chances of it being unlocked or Mycroft being there? A quick turn of the knob found it to be completely locked, a bitter laugh escaping his lips until it was opened quickly.

“Ah, Mr. Lestrade, you weren’t expected. Mr. Holmes isn’t here right now.” Josephine said, searching the mans face. The pitiful glance were answer enough about how he must have come off at that moment. “I know, Josephine, but could I just. . stick round for a while? There’s something important I need to discuss with Mr. Holmes.” He explained.  
Stepping out of the way so he could come in she just nodded, cheeks a faint pink color. Not even bothering to bring up last night Greg entered, heading straight for the mini-bar. Just a few drinks and maybe he’d feel more mellowed out.

Josephine stood there quietly for a moment, frowning at him. “If you need anything please call me, sir.” She said with a polite bow before leaving him to the drink and glass out in front of him.

For the next few hours his attention went from the drink, to the tan line around his ring finger, and back to the drink. Common sense had him pacing the intake since he wasn’t sure when Mycroft would get back, if at all. This obviously wasn’t an actual home so much as just a house.

Resting his head on the bar Greg gave a small laugh, remembering the first time his wife had walked out. He’d gone to work anyway but could barely function. Now she was finally gone for good. At the law office might have very well been the last time he would actually see her in person.

At the hollow feeling growing within his chest Greg quickly stood, shaking his head until a sharp laugh had him looking up. “Were you not staying at your flat tonight since you were. . angry with me?” Mycroft asked, glancing over his shoulder for a moment and whispering something to the woman standing there.

Without a word he went over to the other, grabbing the front of his suit until both of Mycrofts hands reached up to grab his wrists. “You wanted me here, right? Here I am! Do something to me then. Just do. . something! Anything!”

“Josephine, you may retire for the evening. Your services won’t be needed.” Mycroft said without looking back at her. It was still early for her to leave, barely even six but she didn’t protest.

“My my, whatever could have happened today?” He asked, squeezing the wrists firmly enough to have the hands drop the front of his suit. “Does it matter? I’m here. I was going to end up here anyway so just. . something. Show me something we haven’t done yet.”

Mycroft was rather taken aback by this little turn of events but it was easy to piece things together. Greg was almost an open book. A rare trait for a man his age.

“I can think of a few things if you are truly so interested.” Mycroft murmured, tracing a hand slowly along one suit sleeve until the pale fingers were wrapped around the front of Gregs throat.


	9. Company

As the pressure increased at his throat Greg started to reach up, hand pausing at the look in Mycrofts eyes. “Do you not trust me?”

Seemed like a rather strange question to ask now, considering everything else he’d let Mycroft do to him. Meeting the other gaze he lowered his hand, feeling the hand at his throat grow tighter before letting lose. For a moment he went dizzy, lust stroking at his drunken body as he felt himself slipping under the others control again.

Mycroft pulled him closer by the throat, placing a small kiss to his lips before squeezing again. Already the thoughts in his head were scattering, replaced by the random little lack of airflow. Each little squeeze felt like a direct stroke to his groin.

“Is this what you came here for? You naughty boy.” Mycroft playfully scolded, other hand reaching between Gregs legs. Everything he did was so precise and perfectly timed. It almost made him dislike the man, or he would have if everything he did didn’t feel so damned amazing.

The long fingers teased endlessly, the hand at his throat leaving Greg a mess. The fact they were still in the sitting room went unnoticed as he felt Mycroft slip around him, the grip still firmly at his neck.

Being pulled back against the others body he reached behind to rub at the knob already pressing against him. “No touching, Greg.” Mycroft said softly, squeezing a bit harder between Lestrades legs until the detective let go to place hands back at his sides. “Good boy.”

Lips teased at the exposed part of his neck, teeth leaving behind little marks that Greg almost didn’t care about. The fire rolling through him was such a wonderful distraction. Hearing the zipper lower on his pants he couldn’t help but arch back, grinding into Mycrofts body. Instead of getting annoyed the elder Holmes seemed to hiss softly in pleasure, biting at the pale flesh as a hand slipped into the opening.

“Mycroft. . “ Greg moaned softly, head tilting to the side as the soft fingers wrapped around him. As the hips surged against him from behind he gave a small moan, fighting off the urge to grab him. Everything felt so good but it was going so slow! The strokes to his rod were slow, no doubt meant to drive him a little nutty in the process. Feeling annoyed at the thought Greg pressed back again, grinding against Mycroft until another punishing bite at his throat had him gasping.

“Don’t mark me.” He finally mumbled, remembering that he couldn’t show up to work covered in hickies. “Is it don’t mark you at all, or only where others might see?” Mycroft chuckled, squeezing at the mans throat and smiling a bit at the tremble that went through him after letting lose.

What was the question again? Greg tried to remember as he arched into the teasing hand, his hand hands squeezing at his pants legs to keep them still.

Even with the slow pace it was far better than when Mycroft pulled away, leaving him standing there confused for a moment. Turning around he tried to say something but the drinks from before were making it hard to focus. It was even a miracle that he was hard as he was.

Taking a seat on the couch Mycroft gestured for him to come closer, his eyes holding something Greg couldn’t quite determine yet. When he started to go to his knees Mycroft gave a shake of his head, almost chuckling. Instead his hips were grabbed, pulling him forward. “Mycroft?” Greg murmured, a little confused by the actions until a pair of lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

Groaning softly Greg placed a hand on the back of the others head, eyes closing tightly for a moment as he felt the skilled mouth go to work. Out of habit a hand placed itself on the others head, fingers twitching with the desire to grab at his hair. Arching his head back he closed his eyes, mind starting to drift to the last time someone had been in this position.

She hadn’t nearly been this good though. It didn’t even seem like she’d been his passionate. A quick slap to the hip brought his attention back down, the stormy eyes glaring as he pulled back. “Whatever could be on your mind? You seem distracted.” Mycroft asked, wrapping his fingers around the moist member. “I wasn’t thinking about anything, Mycroft.” Greg tried to lie but a thumb was already pushing at his head, teasing the slit roughly and causing him to whimper in pain laced pleasure.

“I do not like being lied to, Greg.” 

Even a drunk fool could have heard the underlying threat to those words. “Do not lie to me again.”

Feeling the thumb push harder against the sensitive slit, causing tears to well up for a moment as he tensed. “I won’t!” Greg said in desperation. They both knew that was akin to a lie but Mycroft merely released most of the pressure, licking carefully where his thumb had been. Feeling the way Greg relaxed Mycroft laughed softly, now merely stroking casually.

Once again the soft lips were wrapped around him, wiping away any other thoughts. Watching himself be worked on was almost too much. There was something more than a little arousing when it came to watching a lover do something like this. There was even an added bonus when the lover was someone like Mycroft.

The lips gave the perfect suction every few seconds, making Greg tremble each time. As his breathing started growing rougher Mycrofts movements became faster, swallowing every inch of him until Greg tensed.

“M-Mycroft, stop it!” Greg gasped, trying to push the others head away as his hips were pulled forward and he let out a shuttering cry. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched Mycroft take everything, swallowing as if it were nothing. The added little excitement of such a show had his legs nearly buckling as Mycroft sat back, pulling the shaky body onto his lap. “Stop laughing at me.” Greg mumbled.

“I wasn’t la-“

He was cut off by the lips suddenly pressed against his, a searching tongue sending him nearly over the edge.

The taste of himself in Mycrofts mouth had him grinding against the others lap, not caring about how ruined it would be after the incident. Finally pulling away Greg licked his own lips, hands on either side of his lovers head.

Reaching up to grasp the others chin in a gentle grip Mycroft kissed him again. “Is that enough to satisfy your lust? Are you to continue being cross with me?” He chuckled softly.  
Glaring slightly down at him Greg was torn between leaving now and staying. Leaving meant being alone with his thoughts, an idea that was far less than appealing. Instead of saying anything he merely wrapped his arms around Mycrofts neck, leaning over to rest his forehead against his arms. “Shut it, Holmes.”

Instead of mocking laughter or witty words he felt arms go around him, a hand resting on his back. It was surprising but the drunken part of him didn’t fight it. “I had to go re-sign the papers today. . “ Greg mumbled, grip growing tighter until Mycroft pushed him back.

A surge of panic rushed through him as it sunk in what he’d just blurted. Moving off the couch and the others lap, Greg grabbed at Mycrofts shirt and gave a tug. “So eager already?”

“Are you not up for the job?” Greg dared, tugging again at his shirt. He wasn’t sure if Mycroft had actually heard him, or understood, but he didn’t really have it in him to discuss it. Whatever Mycroft could think up in that strange head of his would be far more welcome. Even if it left his body as bruised and broken as his mind currently felt.  
The hand that reached up to grab his sent a chill through him, the tight grip making his throat close up.

 

After moving to the bedroom Mycroft had taken his time stripping down, still insisting on everything being folded neatly. Greg was sure it was both the man just being picky and a clever way to keep him waiting.

“Learn to control yourself. Patience truly is a virtue, Lestrade.” He chuckled, walking by the man who already stood there naked and almost semi-hard. Reaching out to give Gregs ass a gentle pat made sure to add in a playful squeeze before heading to the bed, pleased at the blush that still formed. “Everything I’ve done and still a blush? Truly you are an interesting person to behold.”

Greg wasn’t sure if that was meant to be taken as a compliment or not, and for the moment wasn’t putting much effort into thinking about it. Watching Mycroft take a lounging spot at the head board his eyes were pulled downward, mouth going dry and eyes widening at how hard he looked even more here. The size was still somewhat of a surprise when it was taken into account it was inside him.

Taking a few steps towards the bed he scanned quickly for anything that might be hidden around. More handcuffs, another cock ring sheath, or anything along those lines. The only thing he happened to see was the lube bottle resting on the pillow next to Mycroft.

“You look worried. No reason to be. I have nothing hidden up my sleeves, as they would say.” Mycroft said with a polite smile, reaching down to start stroking himself. For a second Greg was unable to speak, eyes following each slow motion of the others hand. It was mildly disappointing that there wasn’t anything Mycroft planned on doing but who could really complain with that man draped out on the bed waiting?

Crawling onto the bed he started to reach out before Mycroft ‘tsked’ him, nodding slightly. Greg gave a small nod before simply leaning down, taking the head into his mouth and teasing it while Mycroft kept stroking. The few sighs of pleasure and shivers he felt from the prim man just added to his pride. He wanted to keep going until Mycroft was actually losing control but there was something else on his mind right now.

“Don’t say anything, Holmes.” Greg said as he pulled away, grabbing the little bottle of lube. To his credit Mycroft said nothing, just watching every movement. Even in moments like this could his brain just not be turned off? Not that it appeared to really affect the mans talents with multi-tasking. The only change was the hand resting at his side, allowing Greg to keep a tad bit of control.

Not really understanding how much of the slick liquid to use he poured a little bit in his hand, stroking Mycroft until the wet sound of the stroking had his own cock hard again. Greg carefully got into place, the flash of worry in his eyes making Mycroft smirk for a second as he reached up to place a hand on the others hip. The other hand held his rod steady, only moving as the felt the tight heat wrap around him. With both hands on Gregs hips he pulled down hard, thrusting up at the same time.

“Fuck! Fucking Holmes!” He cried out, tears welling up in his eyes as his body struggled to adjust itself. Breathing heavily for a moment Greg tried to relax, feeling almost soothing hands run along his hips and upper thighs. “Don’t act like you’re sorry. I’m not that stupid.” Greg moaned softly, both hands on Mycrofts chest as he lifted up and slowly lowered himself.

“Lean back a little more. I would like to have at least a decent view.” Mycroft chuckled, reaching up with one hand to pinch at the already erect nipples. If he had been planning on fighting the order it died as he felt the twisting at his chest, causing Greg to lean back as suggested.

Not even the embarrassment of being so exposed slowed his motions. After finding a comfortable rhythm he couldn’t stop, hands now resting slightly behind him to give Mycroft the best view he could think of. “That’s my good boy.”, he heard the praise and wasn’t sure what to feel about it. Instead he tried to focus on the amazing feeling of when Mycroft arched up at just the right moment to brush against that bundle of nerves inside his body, causing him to go almost numb from the pleasure.  
As his pace increased Greg felt a strong hand wrap around his now hard flesh, stroking in time with their rhythm.

Greg dug his nails slightly into Mycrofts thighs, moaning loudly at the attention to both his chest and straining rod. He could feel the increased speed of his lover going into him, the desperation as Mycroft started thrusting harder until the man actually let out a moan. Feeling the almost familiar heat fill him was just the push to throw him over the edge.  
Slamming down hard Greg let out a loud gasp, grip growing tighter until it felt like he would simply fall over. “Feel better now?” Mycroft asked, removing his hands and allowing Greg to simply pull up and lay down next to him.

“To some degree.” Greg admitted, not wanting another repeat of Mycroft getting pissy about being lied to. “Don’t ask about it.” He said, rolling onto his back and trying to ignore the wet feeling between his legs. Even Mycroft had quite the mess splattered over his stomach and chest but it didn’t seem to be a bother. “I wasn’t planning on asking. You obviously assume to know how to handle your problem the best way.”

Propping up on his elbows he watched Mycroft get up, eyes following the pale body.

“Stop it.”

The tone was gruff, a slight tension in the shoulders making Greg smirk a bit. Was Mycroft nervous of being watched while naked? “Do you wish to shower? It’s easy to tell you aren’t exactly. . comfortable with how I left things.” Mycroft actually chuckled, distracting away from Greg watching him. “Twat.” Greg sighed as he stood, rubbing at his head. Damn, there was still quite a bit of alcohol in his system, making it rather hard to walk calmly but a shower did sound like heaven right about now.  
With the size of the shower itself there was plenty of room for the both of them, and even a shower head on each side. How had he managed to miss that little detail? At least he didn’t need to stand awkwardly close to Mycroft for some of the hot water.

Arching his head back into the hot spray Greg tensed at the feeling of hands resting at his sides, almost stroking the wet skin. 

“For man in your line of work you experience emotions fairly strong.”

“She was my wife for a decent bit of my life. At work it’s easy to detach myself away from a case but my private life is different because what do I detach away from? If I tried that I’d feel nothing.” Greg tried to explain, allowing the arms to wrap around his waist to pull him into a warm body. “You act as if you care for nothing but Sherlock means the world to you, doesn’t he? John has told me quite a few stories of you keeping tabs on your brother.”

“Sherlock is hardly some harlot of a woman who betrayed marriage vows before even ending things, at least verbally, with her husband.” Mycroft murmured into Gregs ear, brushing his lips against the others neck. The words had his gut twisting nervously, hands grabbing at the arms around his waist. “It’s still emotion, isn’t it? That thing you’ve always made it clear you dislike. So, is Sherlock your weakness?”

“I like what we’ve been doing, Greg, but do not push your luck.” He warned calmly. A sore spot? It wasn’t really a surprise but he was more worried about Mycroft turning him away now. Being rejected really wasn’t what he wanted at this current moment.

Running his hands along the others arms he gave a small chuckle. “Pushing my luck usually leads to more interesting things I’ve never tried before. Can you blame me for trying?”  
“Maybe not but that isn’t why you said that. You were merely trying to lash out and gain a response. What is the old saying? Misery loves company, correct?” He said, placing a kiss against Gregs throat and biting hard enough to have the body tremble against his own.

It might have been the truth but Lestrade didn’t exactly like it. It made him sound like a child who wanted someone else to be angry with him. What adult man wanted to admit to such a flaw?

“Mycroft, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Greg murmured, feeling something press against him from behind. How in the hell was Mycroft managing to keep this sort of pace up? Barely even a breather and the man was already trying to get inside him again. Spreading his feet slightly Greg reached out to brace himself against the wall, wincing somewhat at the tenderness.

He far too spent to get hard so quickly but there was no denying that it felt good to have Mycroft inside him. The hands running over his body, washing away the bitter thoughts that lingered. Even after seeing ‘her’ just a few hours ago he couldn’t recall what it felt like to hold her.

His mind was filled to the brim with Mycroft and what they’d been doing. Letting out a loud moan he pressed back, allowing the moment to push everything else out of his mind.  
“Harder.”

For a moment Greg had hoped the word hadn’t actually slipped out, but as Mycroft slammed into him there was a pleased shiver. His body tightened around Mycroft, milking the man for more even as they stood in the shower in an attempt to clean off. Well, at least the mess wouldn’t be a bother this time around.

As long as it lasted the harder thrusts, bites and other such abuses to his body didn’t last nearly long enough. Even knowing it would be a pain in the ass to sit down for a while afterward Greg didn’t want it to end yet, his hips pressing back even as Mycroft went to pull out.

“So eager. A wonderful trait but stop trying to hurt yourself as a distraction, it only ruins the fun.” Mycroft scolded playfully, stroking Gregs hip before pulling away to finish bathing. “Do you have plans tonight?” Greg found himself asked, washing his body off and blushing darkly at the warmth dripping down his legs. It felt far hotter than the water.  
“I do actually.” He answered calmly, already washing soap from his hair before getting out.

Really? Mycroft Holmes had plans? Rinsing off Greg got out as well, wrapping a towel around his waist. “I’ll just head out then.” Greg tossed out, starting to dry off before Mycroft let out a small chuckle. “They aren’t coming here. I know you’re tired. Stay as long as you require.”

Was there really any point? He’d come here for a comforting distraction. Not to come here and wait around alone. “It’s fine. I actually have something to do tonight as well.” He lied, assuming it wasn’t such a big one as to bother Mycroft.

It was embarrassing enough that Mycroft would be able to see how bothered he actually was by the simple statement of him having plans. “If you insist.” He chuckled as Greg left the bathroom to dress quickly.

A night out was what he needed. Maybe even a distraction from Mycroft and ‘her’.

That’s all he needed.


	10. Amusement

Even with the dull ache spreading along his lower back Greg tried not to linger. His head was still swaying slightly from the drinking but that was alright for right now. Just another reason to get out of there quickly.

Greg was barely at the door when his phone started ringing, making him mentally scream in frustration before answer. “Lestrade.”, “Yes, Greg, if you wish I could always call a car to take you to your destination. I would hate to be the reason you were late anywhere.”

Squeezing the phone tightly for a moment he took in a little breath. “It’s fine, Mycroft. I can easily get a cab. Besides, I’m stopping by my flat first. Bye.” Greg said before hanging up, not letting him get another word in. Besides, if Mycroft really needed to speak with him all it required was him stepping into another part of the town home. Lingering for a moment in the front hallway he looked at the phone before clicking the ‘end’ button, letting it roll to voice mail.

Going another step further by placing the ring setting on silent he had a small hope to actually enjoy the night without any distractions. Getting into a cab he could almost hear Sherlock needing him at this late hour for some ungodly reason. What a firestorm that would be to deal with next time he saw the younger Holmes brother. If something like that were to happen he could easily see his phone, wallet, and whatever else was lose in his pockets to just go missing for a while.

Thinking about it he was in a rather amused mood by the time he was back at his flat. Taking a moment inside he sent a quick message to Watson that he wouldn’t be in touch that night, so Sherlock wouldn’t be able to reach him if something came up.

‘Everything fine?’

Leave it to John to ask. ‘Of course. Just going to be busy. Figured I’d warn Sherlock so I could try preventing my stuff from going ‘missing’.’

‘Good luck with that.’

Greg couldn’t help but laugh at that, hoping John wouldn’t have to deal with an annoyed Sherlock. Maybe he knew a secret to calming the man down though. Sometimes lovers had that affect but he sure as hell wasn’t about to ask about it.

Dropping the phone at the table next to the front entrance he mainly just changed clothes, trying to at least look a little better than his felt. His head was now starting to hurt as the drink wore out of his system but his eyes weren’t bloodshot or anything. Dressed in a casual pair of dark jeans with a newer button up he found it to be a rather pleasing pairing.

There was no undoing the age about him but the silver streaked hair didn’t look that bad. Women liked mature men, right? A little voice wondered about what men actually thought but his mind put the brakes on that thought. The idea of hooking up with another man tonight held some appeal but there was also a twisting emotion in his gut, adding to the other layers of stress. It wasn’t much better when it came to the idea of hooking up with a woman tonight but he was single now, and had no emotional commitment to anyone. A little bit of naughty was just the right pace.

Taking a moment to admire himself in the dresser mirror he tried to smile, finding it a little forced. Well, a few drinks and that would quickly erase that little bit of self-doubt.  
A little flash of cologne and he left, deciding that a cab would be the best choice if he was going to be drinking anything. A few times in the cab he checked the silent phone, finding a few texts from John that sounded oddly more like Sherlock even over texting. By the time Greg paid the cabbie and stepped out there was nothing from the elder Holmes brother, not even a text.

Maybe he was out with his plans for the evening? Greg sighed weakly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. If it wasn’t one thing it was another with him, wasn’t it? Completely weak minded and a tad bit soft hearted. Traits that Mycroft had always known about, most likely. Mycroft wasn’t his problem right now.

At least inside the pub the loud voices were enough to clear his head, making it an easier walk to the bar. “Whatever you’d recommend that’ll have me regretting coming here.” Greg yelled to the barman. Soon enough a dark drink was placed in front of him, the scent of it making his stomach hurt. The first sip was a painful burn that had him nearly laughing though the slight cough, promising a full night.

Groups came and went but the bar was always jam packed with bodies. A few times Greg joined in with conversations, turning down offers to head out to different bars. Bar hopping wasn’t exactly his thing anymore but after about the third burning drink he felt a bit bolder. The group that begged him to tag along seemed more his age but still rather young, would it seem odd to tag along?

It was one of the guys that talked him into going. Mainly by saying it looked like he could use a fun night out. “I personally promise to have you home tonight and in one piece. That sound good enough?” He chuckled, gray eyes sparkling with something close to mischief. It was the eyes that did him in. They weren’t quite storm cloud colored but they were nice enough, and a hell of a lot easier to read.

The next bar was where Greg felt a little awkward. He felt like he stood out in a bar playing music like this but no one said anything or stared. When they took a seat at a booth table in a corner the gray eyed man seemed to try and take a seat close to him.

“Greg, right? What do you do?” He asked, the gleam in his eyes familiar enough. Flirting was flirting no matter the gender. “It doesn’t really matter.” Greg replied calmly. There was still the worry that some new details of his personal life might leak out at work and keeping it separate as possible was his best bet. “That’s not very nice. By the way, name’s Glenn in case you forgot already.” He added with a grin, holding his hand out for a shake.

Chuckling softly Greg reached out, clasping the surprisingly strong hand within his own for a moment. There was a slight spark but it didn’t really surge through him. Glenn looked a little younger but not by much, and the air about him seemed more mature.

“I’m not normally so forgetful. Just been a stressful couple of weeks you could say.” Greg said, allowing his hand to rest back at the table as Glenns gray eyes lingered at the fading tan line on his finger. “I would imagine so. So, getting back into the swing of bachelor life, hmm?”

As the conversation progressed Greg kept sipping at the drinks offered, feeling nerves build up as the topics took more personal routes. A few times the phone in his pocket vibrated, causing him to tense and stumble through a few sentences as the feeling of eyes watching him came and went. The possibility of Mycroft watching him was quite high but it wouldn’t make sense, at least not to someone like Greg who wasn’t ten steps ahead in another person’s thoughts. Hell, truth be told he was barely keeping up with his own thoughts as he felt Glenn touch his knee under the table.

“Jumpy jumpy. Sorry.” Glenn chuckled softly, removing his hand the moment Greg nearly jumped. Even the nervous reactions seemed to be lighting Glenns fire somehow. At least that meant he didn’t have to try very hard.

“Guys, we’re about to hit up another place. You gonna be able to make it, sunshine?”

The small group had stood, Glenn remaining close to his side being the exception. Realizing they were speaking to him Greg tried to smile but just laughed softly, nodding. “I might actually head on my way. Great meeting all of you.” He said before trying to stand. Without warning a hand went to his lower back, a devilish grin suddenly close to his face. “I’ll make sure he gets home. Talk to you guys later.” Glenn said but Greg wasn’t sure why the guy was even helping him home in the first place.

That was a lie. Why was he even trying to lie to himself now? In the cab his mind was racing over the same things over and over. Focused only on the comforting hand on his shoulder. “How long have you been divorced?”

“Only a short while but we’ve been separated for a year or so. The last few weeks have been kind of a roller coaster you could say.” Greg chuckled, feeling the hand at his shoulder squeeze slightly and release. ‘Roller coaster’ was putting it gently actually. Mycroft had thrown him for a confusing loop that had him about to find a distraction in another man; an idea that would have been the furthest thing from his mind just a short time ago.

Thankfully Glenn kept things rather tame until they got into the flat itself. His actions became more assertive after that, leaving Greg torn between the normal reactions of the male body and the buzzing in his pocket. Taking the phone out of his pocket Greg tossed it onto the coffee table in the living room, hating the name that blared across the front.  
“Mycroft, hm? Strange name.” Glenn commented, turning attention back to Greg and reaching out to push him onto the couch. “Been with another guy before? You kind of act like a virgin but judging how that ‘Mycroft’ guy keeps calling there’s more than just simple friendship there.” He asked, already moving to pin the other to the couch and kiss him firmly.

“Just shut it.” Greg ordered, resting his hands on Glenns sides. The forceful tone had a more positive effect than Greg would have thought possible, judging by the sudden grinding of hips against his own. The phone on the table flared to life again with a text, the vibration pattern different from the constant ringing. “Hopefully he gave up, huh?” Glenn asked, placing warm kisses against his throat.

Stretching out to grab the phone he pulled it out of Glenns reach when the man reached for it. “Might be work related.” He explained, which wasn’t really a lie. Sherlock preferred using text messages so it made more sense for a text to come from the younger Holmes.

‘Do send the boy away. I doubt you will want him lingering when the car arrives for you. –M.H’

That arrogant twat! Really?

‘I’m not coming over tonight. Busy.’

Dropping the phone back on the table he pulled Glenn over again, ignoring the quick buzzing of a reply text. No. He was not going to be sucked in like that. Mycroft couldn’t just learn that people wouldn’t always jump to attention at his orders.

Feeling a warm hand slip under his shirt Greg felt his attention actually drift away from Mycroft for a moment. Opening his lips for the heated kiss he gave a low moan, almost shivering when Glenn bit down on his lower lip.

The moment was quickly sizzling to life when a sharp knock at the door had them both sitting up. “Really? Is that your boyfriend? I don’t know what happened but chap needs to control himself.” Glenn grumbled, getting up and heading for the door as Greg got up to follow. Grabbing the mans arm he gave a small gesture to shut up before pushing him to the side. Greg had only been expecting a driver or maybe the always texting assistant. So it was even more of a surprise to see the perfectly dressed, perfectly groomed Mycroft Holmes standing at his front door.

“You knew I wouldn’t come, didn’t you? So you come here, right?” Greg sighed, rubbing at his face. This night was truly just one of the strangest in recent years, or maybe even overall. Without even answering Mycroft stepped into the flat, only stopping when his storm threatening eyes landed on Glenn. Instead of backing down Glenn seemed to actually try and puff up, meeting the cool gaze with more annoyance.

As Glenn went to say something Mycroft held up the end of his umbrella, placing the sharp point against his chest. “Childs playtime is over. Do run along now.” Mycroft said, increasing pressure slightly until Greg grabbed the end of the umbrella to push it down. “Mycroft! Are you completely daft? You can’t just come into my flat and threaten someone!” Greg snapped as the others eyes were turned on him.

“It really would be in your guests’ best interest if he were to leave now. Maybe he would listen to you over me.” Mycroft said, lowering the umbrella as Greg let go. What game was Mycroft playing? Just storming in here like this? “Glenn, maybe you should go.” Greg finally sighed, cheeks taking a dark red color as the words came out.

“Are you going to be okay, Greg? I don’t really feel right leaving you here with this nut.” Glenn said, placing a hand on Gregs arm until the umbrella came back up to place a sharp hit against his wrist. Cursing loudly Glenn pulled his hand away, glaring at Mycroft. “Give me a ring sometime, Greg. I’ll make sure to call later to make sure this mental case didn’t do anything.”

Greg didn’t make a move to stop him. The eyes watching him were too forceful, giving the order to remain still. “Such interesting taste you do have, Greg. He looked a little unrefined but those bar types usually are.” Mycroft said, going to give the lock a sharp twist. “I’m one of the bar types but you do find me unrefined, don’t you? I think that’s something about this that gives you such a thrill about this. . this ‘thing’ between us.” Greg said in annoyance, pulling away when a hand cupped his cheek.

This time the grip was firm, a tad bit punishing as it grabbed his chin roughly to keep him still. “I do find you an interesting man. You are unrefined to a degree but I have never used the term negatively in your case.” Mycroft said, pulling Greg into a kiss. For a brief moment Greg tried to resist, hands fisting at his sides until a nail dug into his cheek. Gasping at the slight jab of pain an invading tongue was quick to take control, leaving him to debate what to do.

His body made the decision this time around by responding quickly to the invasive actions. When Mycroft pulled back slightly he gave something close to a disappointed sigh. “I can almost taste that fool on you.” he heard Mycroft murmur. True, he’d kissed Glenn but Mycroft was just being foolish.

Greg let out a choking gasp as he was forced to his knees, a hand resting at the back of his head. With his face pressed against the front of Mycrofts pants he had to reach up to push away, feeling the pounding lust that hadn’t been there with Glenn. It was almost shameful how much this turned him on, to be forced to his knees as a controlling hand gave him silent orders.

No underwear? It was still kind of amusing to think of someone like Mycroft not caring for something like that but Greg quickly had his attention pulled back when the already leaking head was placed against his lips. The salty liquid caused him to moan as Greg ran his tongue over the moist slit, grip growing tighter on the others hips like he might decide to pull away.

Leaning forward he took most of it rather easily, eyes drifting closed as he felt Mycroft arch his hips forward slightly. Was Mycroft honestly trying to mark him like this? Running his tongue along the underside of the hard flesh he found it wasn’t really that big of a deal right now. Spreading his legs slightly Greg reached down with one hand, fondling at the zipper and buttons to undo them before a ‘tsking’ noise stilled his actions.

“Naughty boy. You really should know better by now. Up now.” Mycroft chuckled softly, removing his hand so Greg could stand easier. When they kissed this time there was no displeased mention of tasting like another, which had Greg almost amused at the rather immature mind set of this man. Well, not really immature so much as just taking what he desired in odd ways.

It did cross his mind to ask about the plans that had been mentioned earlier but Greg found himself rather dizzy. Even when Mycroft pulled away his head felt fuzzy again, adding a strange level of awareness to every touch and stroke of the others hands.

At mention of the bedroom he pulled away to lead through the flat, frowning a bit when Mycroft would pause for a moment to kick at a pile of books. “I wasn’t expecting company. If you don’t like it you can leave.” Greg grumbled, shivering when a hand reached out to grope his ass. “If I were to leave you would be leaving with me. Don’t try to fool yourself into thinking you wouldn’t.”

There wasn’t really anything to say to that. It was completely true at this point. After only a few minutes with the elder Holmes brother Greg could barely remember the first man who’d been here first. As they drew closer to the bedroom the pressure at his ass increased, causing him to stumble a bit and grab onto the door way. “Mycroft, if you want to make it to the bed you need to stop trying to trip me.” Greg snapped, glaring over his shoulder and wincing at the sharp pinch to the covered area. The temptation to be a little mouthy was strong, there was just something enjoyable about getting under Mycrofts skin.

Turning around Greg gave a haughty smile, eyes flashing with merriment when he saw the way Mycroft looked at him. Was that surprise or did he just want to see Mycroft caught off guard that badly? “This is my home. Do you actually think I’m just going to let you act like that now?” He asked. The small gasp was choked off by the hand wrapping around his throat gently, the slight pressure sending a wave straight down to his cock.

“Actually, yes, I do.” Mycroft laughed softly, squeezing ever so gently as he watched Gregs hips almost roll. Such amusing reactions really. Kissing Greg he released slightly on the others neck, keeping enough of a grip to keep him stuck in place. “Strip. Then lean over on the bed. No more sass talk.”  
The fact this was the bed he’d shared with his wife for a good while barely occurred to him. It was just something they were about to fuck on. Well, something that Mycroft was going to fuck him on. No doubt their actions were going to pretty much wipe away any trace that was left of ‘her’ in this room.

A part of him couldn’t help but think what she’d do finding out about this. Leaning over to grasp the edge of the bed Greg almost laughed, the sound dying off when soft but firm hands grasped him from behind. “Did your friendly encounter start earlier in the evening?” He asked, kneading the pale cheeks gently as Greg hissing. “N-no!” He growled in annoyance, cheeks growing hotter than his body currently felt.

“But you were going to sleep with him. Weren’t you, Lestrade?” Mycroft sighed. At the pause he brought a hand back, swinging it around firmly. As the steady ‘smack’ broke the silence he chuckled. “Shall I repeat my question?”

“Yes! I was going to try and shag him!” Greg finally groaned when the firm hand was brought back down. At the little confession he felt the punishing hand stop, simply resting over the slightly stinging areas. Even if it was the truth it still wasn’t the answer Mycroft had wanted to hear. That much was plain judging by the sigh and rough squeeze.  
Feeling the hand pull away he almost tensed before it was brought back down, causing him to moan and squeezing the wrinkled comforter tightly. His bed wasn’t nearly as big as Mycrofts, nor as nice but at least it was comfortable.

Even if it was meant for punishment they both knew he enjoyed it just as much as Mycroft did. By the time it was over they were both panting slightly, excitement causing Greg to arch his hips back into the now cool hands.

God, he was nearly dripping from just that! When Mycroft pulled away he tried to steal a glance before simply looking back down at the comforter. No reason to risk pissing the suit clad twat further. Hearing the rustle of clothes Greg let out a little breath, body trembling at the sound of what was assumed to be clothes hit the floor.

Listening carefully to the others movement he was a bit confused as he made his way to the other side of the bed. After lying down Mycroft gave a little motion of his hand, almost laughing at the flash of confusion on Gregs face. “Surely a man your age can guess.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to comment their ages weren’t exactly that far apart before simply giving a mental sigh and moving into place. Even before he could do anything Mycroft was working at him, hands at his hips and deep throating every inch. Greg almost couldn’t focus as he first started stroking, licking away the clean lines of salty liquid that ran down the edges.

When a finger started teasing at him Greg couldn’t help but arch back, moaning around the current mouthful. God, how could he be expected to last any decent amount of time during something like this? “Mycroft, I’m close.” Greg warned as he pulled away for a breath. Instead of stopping Mycroft pushed in another finger, pulling his hips further downward. “Mycroft. . “ He moaned out the others name, trying to keep stroking even as his body started to shake.

Without warning he was simply pushed off, flopping on the bed with a gasp. When the demanding lips were back over his Greg forgot easily about the pain in his lower body as his arms wrapped around Mycrofts neck. Even his kisses seemed overly thought out but they were so good.

“Eyes closed.” Mycroft murmured before pulling away, making him curse. Of course he reached up when something was tied around his eyes, instinct kicking in for a moment. “You brought a blind fold with you? Of course you did.” Greg chuckled, wincing when his hip was given a hard slap. The only real sound in the room was the slight creak of the smaller bed as Greg was moved around to his knees, wrists bound by this point now.

Having his sight hidden like this was still rather arousing, causing his heart to race. “Why on earth did you venture out to try and find someone else to shag? You were barely aroused when I arrived, and now look at you.” Mycroft said, reaching between Gregs legs and grasping the hard flesh. “Others might say it’s you wanting to explore what you didn’t have with your wife but that isn’t it, is it?”

Tension and embarrassment mixed with the lust building up in his body, breathing coming in rougher as he arched into the teasing hand. “You could have easily found someone else after seeing your ex-wife at the lawyers’ office but you came to me. Why would you leave straight from my bed to seek another?” He asked but the tone wasn’t really questioning. Mycroft knew damn well, didn’t he? This was just meant to humiliate further.

Squeezing the comforter tighter Greg gave a low curse, shaking slightly as the punishing hand again was brought back on his ass. “You knew why, Mycroft. I hate that you know but don’t treat me like a moron.” Greg moaned weakly, wincing when the grip at his shaft tightened for a moment. “You want to know about my plans tonight, do you not? I can tell the question has crossed your mind. Even when you were with that ‘Glenn’ fellow you thought about my plans.”  
Every other word was accompanied by a hard slap to his already tender cheeks. After a point the numbing sensation had his cock head dripping, causing the stroking to become a sound of its own. Just at the right, or wrong moment actually, Mycroft would pull his hand away and simply tease the head. “Jealous of your own thoughts. Barely anything I said related to what you assumed I would be out doing but you were so quick to jump to the conclusion my night would end like this, but with someone else, correct?” He asked, massaging the warm cheeks.

“Yes.” Greg gasped, feeling the hand at his groin move up to his chest. The sticky substance wasn’t a mystery in the least but now it was getting over his chest as Mycroft pinched at an already perked up nipple. “Obviously your night didn’t turn out like you planned.” He groaned bitterly before Mycroft gave a warm chuckle, twisting the nipple carefully as fingers of his other hand teased at his hole again.

“What makes you think my intention wasn’t to end up here in the first place? You never found out if my plans for the night were personal or work related. My schedule really can be quite. . erratic.”

This had been the plan from the start? “So you let me be jealous when you could have said something? You unbelievable twat!” Greg cursed before arching his hips back at the thrusting fingers. “Your reactions amuse me. Overall I find you a rather interesting man. It’s so rare that my amusement is held for this long. Why on earth would you think I’d lose my favorite entertainment?” He asked, placing a kiss at Gregs lower back.

Jesus save him was that Mycroft Holmes way of saying he liked someone? “Remind me never to get boring or piss you off.” Greg murmured before he was rolled over again, hands above his head. When the blindfold was removed he blinked in surprise, the feeling only growing when his wrists were unbound. “Seems like a waste.” He commented, hands already taking their place over Mycrofts body.

Pulling the man down for another kiss he arched upward, tired of waiting. The silent order seemed to sink in as Mycroft moved between the spread thighs, pushing the head in first but having to pause when Greg tensed. It was slow going for a moment but still managed to drive the both of them mad with desire.

“Fuck.” Greg gasped, feeling the other go deeper. Glenn wouldn’t have been able to do this to him. Spreading his thighs a bit wider he winced as attention was again turned to his chest, the added stimulation causing him to physically protest the slow motion. “Fuck me! Just do it!”

Mycroft gave something of a chuckle before slamming in fully, watching the others eyes glaze over for a second as the air was stolen from his lungs. “Interesting reactions.” He chuckled fondly before pulling out slightly.

With everything else already done to him Greg wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last. The perfectly angled thrusts into him were sending waves through him, nails digging into Mycrofts lower back to urge him silently faster. As the pace increased the creaking under them grew louder, echoing in the tiny room.

God, what would his ex-wife have to say to this? Instead of guilting him there was only another little feeling of pleasure, tipping everything over as he arched up and cried out. “There! Yes!” Greg moaned loudly, toes almost curling as he felt Mycroft slam into him a final time. The feeling of Mycroft finishing inside him was just another breaking point, sending Greg to his own point of release.

Once the blinding sensation started to fade they parted, both breathing heavily but feeling quite content. “God, I need a shower.” Greg murmured, feeling the sticky mess of his own release on himself. Glancing over he gave a small chuckle at the sight of Mycroft lying there breathing calmly, despite the fact he was covered in the mess himself.

“Plan on staying the night, Holmes?”

“Not necessarily a bad idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this. I wouldn't mind adding to it later on if there's 'demand' for a continuation like that. haha.


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